The Blaze of Blaise Zabini
by NengSki
Summary: If I could take away your pain, I would. But Blaise Zabini didn’t expect she’d be heard. From Hogwarts to Azkaban, to exotic islands and secret realms, this’s the story of a rebel, a Maverick. Always a Slytherin.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: This story was written and inspired by J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter Series. The author claims no ownership on the characters and places mentioned in the story. Blaze Zabini is a character inspired by JKR's infamous Blaise Zabini. And given the little facts known of the character the author chose to make this character a girl. If some people can't get that then leave now and hold your peace. Because this author has bloody had it with that whole gender issue of Blaise. Save the arguments. Author's heard it all.**

**Note: Story not canon in some parts.**** Writing first part in progress. Events in Book 1 to 5 touched. Rating is R for strong language, violence, sexuality, and depth. *snort* And this's just in the first couple of chapters. Expect elements of comedy, drama, action/adventure, romance, etc. This is a rewrite of same story title, by same author. Translations of some phrases given upon request or mood of author. Visit Nengski's webpage for artwork inspired by story.    **

A Private Chat

"I need your help."

"Why? What is it? What happened?"

"I don't know how to say this."

"Well, go on. Tell me so I can help."

"I got her pregnant."

"When you say her, you don't mean _her?"_

"I do mean _her."_

"_So'n__ Schiet."_

"_Ich__ weiβ. I've looked at a couple of the secret-keeping charms, I could use the-"_

"_Mach keinen Scheiβ!"_

"I already got her pregnant. Is there anything more stupid I can do?! Please, s_ie__ sind unsere einzige Hoffnung."_

"But-"

"If this comes out, it might ruin us all. The Order's shaky enough as is."

"I know. V-Very well … I'll think of something. As for you … talk to your wife." 

*****

… On July 31, 1980, three wizarding families welcomed three new members to their fold. The magical scroll at Hogwarts Academy immediately went to work. Recording the first child born of the three, it scrawled diligently_ Neville Longbottom. Next in line, the scroll wrote down heartily __Harry Potter … _

*****

A Year Later

Godric Hollow stirred with laughter, lively chatter, and the light clinking of goblets. The evening had winded down into an orangey-red sunset spotted with violet clouds. A thick summer breeze swayed the branches of a nearby Sycamore, making the wind-chimes tied along its length sing in unison. The home of James and Lily Potter glowed with firebug lamps, roaming orbs, and glittery banners that crooned _Happy 1st Birthday!_ The guests had scattered themselves all around the house, keeping their conversations to a moderate level. 

A short, stout wizard stepped out of a carriage and stood in front of the Potter's gate. He patted down his tousled blonde hair and scratched at his pointy nose. He then proceeded up the tiled path and knocked on the thick Oak door.

"Come in, Peter!" A warm feminine voice greeted. "Everybody's here."

Smiling, Peter Pettigrew produced several boxes in his hands. "Gifts for the little ones, Lily. Where are they?"

Lily Potter tilted her head towards the spacious family room. "They're all in the Stay-Putter. I think Alastor's watching them."

Alastor Moody turned slightly as he nestled deeper into the cushy armchair. His mouth hung open and dribbled slightly as Peter set the gifts on the coffee table. He then turned to the over-sized playing pen that held the birthday celebrants.

A chubby boy chewing on a Zwieback cracker blinked up at the man. Peter ruffled the little boy's hair, which sent the kid flopping clumsily on his back.

"Opps!" Peter said and went through the task of up-righting Baby Longbottom, which soon revealed itself as an extraordinary ordeal. 

Meanwhile, the other baby boy with an atrocious mop of scraggly black hair stared avidly at the blonde baby girl in front of him. She tried for the hundredth time to bite into the cookie she held, and once again came up empty. Her cheeks puffed out in frustration, but her eyes remained alight as she clamped her toothless mouth on the bread again. The boy with messy black hair couldn't stand it any longer. He lunged for the girl and chomped on the cookie as she still held it. She grunted, clearly annoyed, but quickly fascinated herself with the boy's hair. She proceeded to chew on this, deftly drooling over half the side of the boy's head.

"How are they? They've been so quiet," Vanessa cooed as she approached Peter who still had his hands full with Neville. She suddenly giggled at the sight of the other two. Moody snorted awake.

"What's that? Head count?!" He barked blearily. Vanessa gently pushed the old Auror back down on the armchair. She called Lily over.

"Look at them!" She snickered. Lily giggled watching her son, Harry, pry the cookie from the girl's hand. He smacked on it greedily. The girl gave up on the cookie and pulled at Harry's hair.

"She must think Harry's head is full of licorice sticks," Lily mused. Vanessa smiled goofily as the baby girl tapped lightly on Harry's head singing _Ba_, ba, ba_._

"Ladies." Someone cleared his throat. Sirius Black cocked his head to the door behind him. "Have you forgotten already?" Lily clasped her hands together.

"Oh yeah! I'm coming! Sorry to make you wait. Are you okay there, Vanessa?" She flicked her raven black hair over her shoulder. 

"Go ahead, Lily. Peter's here and … Alastor will make for a good prop," she whispered loudly as Moody snored once again. Peter stood to his feet, dabbing his sweat with a handkerchief.

"Actually, we need Peter for a second," Sirius said casually. Peter's face went alit.

"A second? Sure! Anything for my good friends!" 

Suddenly, the baby girl went rigid. Her nose scrunched up as she said, "Ba, ba, bad man." She pointed. Vanessa's eyebrows shot up, but Blaise continued singing _ba__, ba, ba. Vanessa snorted to herself, assuming she heard things. Everyone else remained oblivious._

Peter scrambled after Lily as Sirius held the door open. The handsome, dark-haired wizard exchanged exasperated smiles with Vanessa and closed the door behind him.       

Vanessa turned back to the pen and propped Neville into a sitting position using a pillow. She had placed a fifth pillow at the wobbly boy's side when Remus Lupin kneeled beside her.

"Hello, stranger," she greeted. "Where have you been?" He held out a finger for Harry to clamp his tiny hand around.

"Out," he sighed. He smiled tiredly at Vanessa. She bit her lip.

"You shouldn't be so vague, Remus. You know, everyone's thinking there's a snitch in the Order. I know it's not you," she said quickly. Remus nodded quietly. 

"What I did was just as bad. But she and I are over now. I doubt Sirius will ever trust me again though." He closed his eyes. Vanessa squeezed his shoulder as the girl crawled over to Neville and poked him with her finger. He squeaked and toppled over again.

"You can't help who you love," she said quietly. Her expression darkened but she forced a smile on her face once Remus turned to her. "Have you _reconsidered_ being my girl's godfather?" He sighed weakly.

"Vanessa, I'm flattered … But …"

As Remus continued rambling, Baby Neville squeaked again. Baby Harry twisted around to see the blonde baby girl coo as she clumsily tried pulling Neville into a sitting position. She seemed more amused watching Neville flop over though. Feeling lonely, Baby Harry crawled over to the two and planted his diapered buttocks next to the girl. "Uh!" He said loudly. She wrinkled her nose at him and turned back to Neville. "Uh!" Harry grunted louder and put a small hand on her shoulder. He blew on her face making her shut her eyes. "Blappa," she sang, clapping as she bounced on her bum. Still, she kept her face turned to Neville. Then Baby Harry leaned over and snogged the girl on the cheek. She let out a tickled laugh and turned to him with a fabulous smile. Harry laughed back and quickly resumed to pulling her hair. 

The adults still carried on with their discussion.

"I know Zon and I are relatively new to this town. But you've been so kind to us. And I don't have any friends in Durmstang that I would trust with my daughter's life. But even if we considered them, you're still our first choice, Remus." He bowed his head.

"But you know I'm a werewolf." Vanessa blushed.

"Well, I'm hoping if ever something should happen to us … you'd have married a good woman by then. She could take care of the booger every full moon." Now Remus snorted.

"My chance for a normal life left me a long time ago, dear." He reached over and lifted the baby girl into his arms. She wrapped her dewy arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder. With every amount of restraint in his voice, he said, "I can't be her godfather." Vanessa bit her lip.

"I understand, Remus. I do. We'll just have to live forever I guess." They exchanged sad grins.

"This may sound rude, but why not the Diggory's?" Remus suggested as the baby yawned. 

"No, not the Diggory's," Vanessa said quickly. The door opened again, and Sirius walked into the room along with the rest of the group.

Harry's face brightened as James Potter approached the pen.

"How's my little bogey?" The young man teased. Harry lifted both arms to his dad.

"Up!" He said. James laughed and took his son in his arms.

"That's the only word he seems to know," Lily groaned as Frank Longbottom rescued Neville from the pile of pillows. "Not Dada, certainly not Mama. Just _Up!" Sirius barked a laugh._

"Well, he's got the Quidditch-mania in his blood," James said proudly. He swept across the room, making swishing sounds as Harry hung onto his neck and squealed. The baby girl looked up from Remus' shoulder and spotted a familiar blonde across the room.  

"Papa!" She called holding out a hand. Vanessa gasped as Zonarius pulled at his hair.

"Did you all hear that?!" He grinned as he bounded to Remus and tossed his daughter high into the air. He caught the giggling girl and smothered her with kisses. "First word, _Papa!_ Ha! You owe me a galleon, Van!" He crowed to Vanessa as everyone chuckled around them.

"No fair." She pouted but snuggled under Zonarius' arm. The baby puckered her lips to Vanessa for a kiss. Vanessa planted a loud one. "You say Mama now, sweetie. MA … MA."

"Mama," she said. Vanessa hooted. Lily pretended to scowl.

"Come on now, Harry. You can't let the ickle girl show you up," she teased pinching Harry's cookie-crumb-infested cheek. He beamed.

"UP!"

The room roared with laughter.

The party lasted late into the evening. Vanessa helped Lily clean up in the kitchen as Baby Harry crawled around the living room floor. He wobbled around the piles of wrapping paper while his father stretched his arms protectively around his son. Sirius sat crossed-legged beside a pram that held the baby girl. She watched avidly as Baby Harry strutted across her view while Baby Neville chuckled as he bounced on his dad's knee. Baby Harry made a show of prancing over to the girl's stroller and walking/stumbling back to his father, all the while a huge grin stretched across his cherubic face. When he did this for the fifth time, Sirius struggled down his laughter and turned to Zonarius who had been sitting in the chair Moody occupied earlier. 

"Hey, Zon. It looks like your little one already has a suitor," Sirius snickered just as Harry wobbled over to the baby girl and handed her a bright red bow that he'd torn off one of the presents. She placed it on top of the other bows Harry'd given to her.

"Works fast that one," Zon said feigning a stern look. "I'll have to put that one on my list. Look out for Potter boy," he mumbled pretending to take notes on his palm. James scoffed innocently. 

"My son will be a perfect gentleman, Zon. It's Sirius' kid you have to look after." Everyone around the room chuckled. Sirius laughed loudest.

"James has a point though. If you had a son, Sirius, I have no choice but to lock my girl up in a tower with a double-duty chastity belt."

Lily looked up from her cup of coffee as more roars of laughter erupted from the living room. 

"I wonder what's so funny out there," she smiled as Vanessa sat across from her. They had finished with their cleaning. The dishes washed themselves as the food stored themselves away in the refrigerator. Vanessa shrugged as she added two sugar cubes into her mug.

"Well, you have Sirius, Frank, James, and Zon out there. I'd say anything." They giggled as Alice Longbottom pulled another chair at their table. 

"The whole yard's taken care of Lily. I took extra precautions, scanned the area. No breaches in sight. But I suppose Moody told you that, say, a hundred dozen times," the plump-faced woman sighed as Vanessa conjured another mug for Alice to sip.

"Thanks, dear. The both of you. James and I have been going crazy with the preparations for this party. I'm just glad you chipped in to help."

"It's no problem, Lily," Vanessa snorted. "Honestly, I think everyone needed this. Things have been so tense lately. It's always good to take a step back and celebrate why we bother fighting that Voldemort bastard in the first place." Alice snorted into her coffee and Lily smirked at Vanessa. 

"If you went to Hogwarts, Van, I have no doubt you'd've been sorted in Gryffindor."

"Not with that mouth of hers. My galleon's on Slytherin," Alice teased. Van rolled her eyes.

"I can't help it if my English tutor decided to teach me all the swear words first." The women snickered. "I knew what he was doing, but Zon makes swearing an art form."

Lily giggled. "Love at first _Bullocks!"_

Their laughter managed to die down long enough for James' voice to ring within the kitchen's walls.

"Van, looks like your crew's leaving without you!"

"What?!" The women rushed out of the kitchen to find the living room still a mess. Harry threw shreds of paper into the air as the baby girl reached from her stroller and grabbed some ribbons fluttering to her tiny hands. Neville continued snoring as Alice took him from his father's arms.

"James, Sirius! I thought you said you were going to clean this place!" James threw Lily a shy grin that always made her blush right back. 

"Of course, dear. It's just your son here has taken a liking to confetti."

"More like he's showing off," Sirius drawled just as Harry wobbled over to the stroller and blew into the girl's face again. She giggled closing her eyes as her bangs lifted from her face. She clapped her hands when she saw Vanessa in the room. Then she yawned.

"Aww, my girl's sleepy?" Van asked approaching the pram. Zon lifted the breaks from the stroller. 

"Guess our curfew's up," he murmured. He shook the men's hands. "I'll see you gentlemen." He said curtly, pulling them each into a bear hug. Van did the same. Everyone exchanged hugs. Planting subtle kisses on Neville and Alice's heads. 

Baby Harry balanced himself as he faced the girl sitting in the stroller. She leaned forward as he planted a slobbery kiss on her lips. She cooed as Harry grinned at her and pulled her hand to him.

"Oh no, Harry, she has to go home too," Lily whispered kneeling beside him. "Say bye-bye. You'll see her again for the holidays." Harry's face began to twist in disapproval. 

"Lily?" She stood up to hug Van. "Remember if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. We're here for you and your family. Alice's too."

Baby Harry tugged at his mum's skirt, keeping his other hand locked around the girl's. 

"Thanks, Van."

"Hey, little man. It's time to let the babe go," Sirius whispered kneeling beside Harry. The boy pouted some more. He looked ready to break into a full out wail. 

Then the little girl lean forward and blew on his face. He shut his eyes for a moment, making her giggle. He blinked up at her and wrinkled his nose, smiling widely. 

"Ba, ba," Harry said opening and closing his hand. She did the same. 

"Lubba," she sang back. Her father pulled her stroller away.

"See you all in Christmas!" 

"Yes, your place this time. Where's Remus? Left without saying good-bye again?"

"Yeah, you know him. Slippery little bugger. Peter turned in early too." 

"Bye, Harry! Bye, Neville!"

"I'll see you at the Ministry, Frank, Alice. Say hi to your mum for me!"

"Bye, Hot Stuff! You're gonna be a pretty little blonde someday, hopefully not like your dad."

"I heard that."

"Be safe."

"You too." 

Then A Dark Day Came 

Stoatshead Hill divided the villages of Ottery St. Catchpole and Creer Upon Libby. Families like the Lovegood's, the Fawcett's, and the Diggory's resided in the latter while the famously adored Weasley's lived on the other side. The Zabini's lived next door to the Diggory's. A low rickety wooden fence divided the two homes. Its dark green paint peeled around most of the posts. The Libby River bubbled across the backyards where a small bridge crossed over to a lush orchard of various trees. River pixies darted from one Oak to a Pine, chattering in twitty, speedy tones. 

The Diggory's had a blue-bricked two-level home. Its tiny rooms, lined with lacey spring-yellow drapes, expanded at one's will. Throw rugs varying in shades of white scattered the parquet floor. Mrs. Diggory loved daisies and bombarded each room in her house with a pink vase of orange ones. The Diggory's dedicated the loft upstairs to the arrival of their firstborn, Cedric. Joke wands, a tiny broom, and Chocolate Frog cards littered the room, while a messy crayon drawing of a burly man with a brown beard and a woman with long blonde hair lay slightly crumpled on the tiny bed. They weren't in the house just then. Amos Diggory decided to treat his family to a Banana Berry Float at Fortescue's. This was a day of celebration after all. 

Next door, towered the Zabini Manor. Aside from its three or five levels, it also had an attic filled with spell books, trunks of mumbling, old clothes, and photo albums, among other magical artifacts that Zonarius charmed from boredom. The Zabini's had moved into Creer Upon Libby about two or three years ago, but the neighbors still considered them new to the village. Maybe it's because they had yet to unpack all of their boxes. The color of the house depended mostly on Vanessa's mood. Currently, it was a soft charcoal grey. Jasmine vines snaked along the trellis that opened to a veranda filled with potted ferns and orchids. The Zabini's both worked in and out of home, so the couple had an office each. 

Vanessa's office contained piles of scrolls still waiting for her perusal. Red velvet lined her desk chair and sofa as well as the top of her desk. A Lunascope perched on a sidetable behind her desk. Parchment and quills also covered that surface. A picture of her baby girl hung in plain view on her wall along with framed certificates of her education in Durmstang, a double Major in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, a diploma in Wizard Law, Muggle Law, etc. She had a Portable Pyre churning on her desk along with a muggle telephone. On top of her desk read the nameplate: 

_                                                 Attorney Vanessa D. Zabini_

_         Department of International Magic Cooperation -- International Magical Office of Law. _

Zonarius 'Zon' Zabini's office summed up in one word: Books. From ceiling to floor, spell books, atlases, encyclopedias, his own written works. A chart filled with diagrams of transformation leaned on one wall, while his desk had a dozen frames full of a grinning baby girl. His diplomas hung on his wall too. Well, somewhere in that mess. A small basketball net dangled above an overflowing wastebasket. An empty bottle of Gillywater rolled along the mossy green carpet. A golden globe spun slowly in the corner, muttering different longitude and latitude locations. And a whole side of the room had its wall adorned with cards, pictures, medals, the crest of Durmstang, and a baby's pacifier. Or maybe the baby just stuck it there. It happens. He, too, had a nameplate of ebony that read:

                                                _Professor Zonarius A. Zabini_

_Durmstang__Academy__ of Wizarding Arts and Sciences, Transfiguration _

The 3 bedrooms were all on the second floor, a bath for each. The third floor had been made into Zon's work area where he liked to test out new spells. They assigned the baby's nursery its own floor, just to keep flying objects in one area. And there were many. All the floors were tiled with an ivory shade of marble. Persian rugs sprawled themselves lazily on the cool stone floor. The ebony walls glistened, while mythril chandeliers twinkled from the ceiling. All around, the furniture had a Mediterranean-style. All in varnished wood and lined with padded bronze felt. Yulee, the house elf, trotted out of the master bathroom balancing several towels on her head. She plucked off a jasmine from the windowsill and tucked it behind her pointy green ear, before she hopped down the stairs to the elves' floor. The Zabini's gathered in their family parlour, opting to stay home. It's in this home where the blonde baby girl spent her early years.

She bounced now on her mum's knee blowing bubbles from her mouth. Three months had passed since her first birthday. And she moved as if she hadn't been sick a few days earlier. She clapped her hands together and beamed up at her mum. Vanessa smiled weakly and pressed the baby close to her chest. Tears fell down the young woman's face. Zon paced the room rustling his hair.

"It makes no sense," he grumbled under his breath. Outside the house, fireworks sparked out of neighboring chimneys. Children danced in the street. But the Zabini house remained shell-shocked. "How could it be Sirius? I would never think it. It can't be. It's a mistake," he mumbled on as the man sulking in the armchair across from Vanessa lifted his head.

"I don't believe it myself," Remus said with a croaked voice. "First, James and Lily. Then Sirius. And Peter …"

"Poor Peter," Vanessa sniffled. "And what about Rhonda, Zon? She seemed adamant that Sirius is innocent. She looked … she looked crazed. I hope she does nothing brash."

Zon sighed. "I hope so too, Van. But I remember how Mum reacted to Auntie's death. So I really can't say." He turned to Remus. "Are you sure Sirius was James' Secret-Keeper?"

"Apparently." Zon shook his head.

"I know the Fidelius Charm's a complicated spell," he mumbled under his breath. "But maybe it wasn't casted right. Even if Sirius was the Secret-Keeper, if the spell's done poorly, Voldemort could still find them." Remus smiled weakly at Zon's attempt to make sense of the situation.

"But, Zon," Vanessa began as the baby sucked on her little big toe. "If he's innocent, he shouldn't have killed Peter and all those muggles, right?" Zon cursed under his breath. A few silent minutes passed. Then Remus stood tiredly to his feet.

"I'm sorry that I can't stay longer." Zon nodded, still lost in his thoughts. Vanessa followed Remus to the door. He patted the baby girl on the head. 

"Remus, you're welcome to stay with us. Anytime," she said worried. He avoided her eyes.

"Full moon's coming," he said bitterly. "I have to endure that along with this grief." The baby cooed as she cupped her hands around Remus' square jaw. She blew a raspberry at him and giggled. He couldn't help grinning.  

"Do you know what will happen to Harry?" Vanessa asked him quietly. He sighed.

"Dumbledore has taken care of it. The boy's going to live with Lily's sister."

"The anti-social, anti-magic one?" Remus twitched his lips. 

"Too right you are. She's the only one." He kissed both daughter and mum on the forehead. "I'll see you, Vanessa." She smiled weakly.

"Don't be a stranger, Remus. Please," she said knowing that the young man would indeed make himself scarce. He nodded curtly. And closed the door behind him.

A few months later, a quiet scandal happened. 

Zon shook Vanessa awake as he raked his fingers through his hair. Ash smeared over his face, the signs of a previous call in the pyre. 

"What is it?" She said dreading more news. First, their child went deathly ill, the Potter's and Peter's death, then Sirius' imprisonment, Remus seemingly dropped off the face of the earth, the Longbottom's were committed to St. Mungo's, the Order had disassembled. How much more can she take?

"You were right, Van. Mum went apeshit." She sat straight and pulled at her hair.

"No …"

"Yes," he grumbled. "I just spoke with Padre. She tried to break into Azkaban. Tried to help Sirius escape." Vanessa gasped. "She had reached his cell when the Dementors overpowered her. Crouch wanted to imprison her in Azkaban, but they convinced him to give her a lesser sentence, pleaded insanity for her instead. And-"

"Wait. Insanity?" Vanessa paled.

"She stood in front of Crouch mumbling Auntie's name. Her death hit her hard, Van. With Sirius, it's like losing Auntie all over again." He swore again. "I can't go back to work like this. I can't think. How can I teach?"

"What is Mum's sentence then?" Vanessa whispered. 

"The Ministry made her retire. As for the sentence … House arrest. But it's more of an exile. She can't return to the mainland in ten years."

"That's absurd!"

"That's Crouch." 

Vanessa groaned. "Just like them to condemn her as quickly they did Sirius." Her husband nodded biting his lip. 

"Still, this punishment's pretty bearable. Considering Crouch sentenced her two hours after they caught her. He probably kicked himself when he realised he'd let her off easy."

"But, Zon, your mum's all alone in that island. I mean there's muggles and all, but I don't want her to be without her family."

"She won't be. We'll visit as soon as the little one gets her check up. And Mum's friends'll visit her often no doubt."

"… Do you think she really went insane?"

"I don't know, Van. But if there's truth to her story … don't you think that's worse?" He grunted as he rested his head on the down-filled pillow. "Some Christmas this turned out to be, eh?" Vanessa replied by kissing him fully on the mouth.    

*****

… On July 31, 1980, three wizarding families had welcomed three new members to their fold. The magical scroll at Hogwarts Academy recorded first _Neville Longbottom. Next, the scroll wrote _Harry Potter …__

And, finally, when it sensed the birth of Blaise Zabini, it promptly … spattered itself. 

This is the story of that one strange little girl.

*****


	2. Strange Little Girl

Chapter 1: Strange Little Girl 

Sun in Her hair, Sky in Her Eyes

On the Isle of Wight, along the high chalk downland in the midst of a lush forest, stood a grand castle called Villa Monteverde. It towered over the other homes on the quaint island. Its highest peak had a spectacular view of The Needles and the whole length of Tennyson Trail. Tennyson's monument, a long narrow cross, stood at a fair distance along with the rundown Carisbrooke Castle. Villa Monteverde overlooked the whole circumference of the island (a bit over 100 square miles) and spied over the island's central city of Newport onto the shores of Hampshire and Dorset. Behind the castle swished the vast English Channel that lapped against the golden sands of the beaches below. 

The castle bustled with activity on this hot August day. Various sorts of people carrying brightly wrapped presents of tinsel and silk popped in front of the castle's gate dusting off their robes and pointed hats. Bigger groups came in horseless carriages. A tall, slender elf with black hair and blue skin welcomed each guest ushering them to one of the many tables strewn all over the yard. Food apparated on the tables the moment the guests sat on the chairs. 

Children ran around the property holding inflated felines, pigs, and ducks that mewed, oinked, or quacked in protest. Every now and then, violet and blue sparks would blast from the castle's tower as confetti rained down its stone walls. This always prompted several tiny elves to appear, sweeping madly at the debris in a cloud of green arms and dustbins. One child cheered his friend on as the other boy bucked on the back of a hippogriff. A giant man hovering over them chuckled as he gulped down a keg-sized mug. This whole scene would've caused more than one resident to stop and stare. But to the muggle eye, it was just a dilapidated pile of logs and boulders. Not even worthy of a tourist photo op. 

Villa Monteverde was the home of retired-Auror Rhonda Zabini. She sipped on a chilled glass of red currant rum. Her bright violet eyes crinkled at something the man sitting across from her said. This man had shocking purple robes and a long, pale blond beard streaked with silver. He talked with grand gestures as Rhonda listened keenly. Their third mate kept his nose in his pint of mulled mead, but his glass eye circled toward the kids scurrying along the stone-tiled hedge. 

"Oy, Zon!" The man with the glass eye piped. "I reckon the little ones are straying too close to the cliff there. That's a long drop to the water," he said gruffly. The man he addressed grinned lazily up from the parchment he had been reading.

"Who Blaise?" He turned to see the children leaning over the hedge. "Cedric's with her, Moody. He's watching over them." Moody grunted as he pulled himself to his uneven feet.

"An eight-year old supervising these tots? Parents today, I bloody swear …"

"Oh, don't be such a killjoy, Alastor," Rhonda grinned, the trace of a wrinkle just barely etched along her mouth. "It's Blaise's birthday. Besides, I doubt you can catch up with them!" She teased. The man in purple robes twitched his lips into a smile.

Alastor ignored Rhonda and hobbled over to one of the gazebo's beams. "Oy, you ankle-biters! You're too close to the ridge!" A total of one head perked up at the old Auror.

"We're fine, Mr. Moody!" The tallest boy called waving his hand. Just then, a blur of blond hair pounced on the boy, sending him sprawling on the ground. Moody grabbed at his chest.

"Did you see that?!" He gasped and waved his wand at the group of giggling arms and legs. "Reckless little bogeys the whole lot of them!" The other adults chuckled. "Oh, it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye!"

The wizard in purple robes pushed the mug across the patio table. "Have another pint, Alastor. And enjoy yourself." After some hesitation, he did with small smile on his face.

Blaise Zabini squealed in delight as her victim swung her around by the waist. She then flopped on the ground next to a chubby redheaded girl. They grinned at each other and tried once again to defeat the 'enemy' that was Cedric Diggory.

"Oy! No fair! Blaise! Susan! That's two against one! Two against one!" He gasped in between his giggles. Another redhead, a boy, wrinkled his nose at them.

"Where did my brothers go?" He sniffed. He pushed up his horn-rimmed glasses and scowled at a pair of redheads further along the hedge. "Fred, George, what're you two doing? Mum said you're not supposed to go that far—"

"Mum said we're not supposed to go too far," one boy mimicked. His twin silently mimed beside him. The boy with glasses pouted. Blaise giggled.

"Percy, come and play with us. Hide and go seek!" Then she and Susan Bones proceeded to jump up and down chanting _hide and go seek_ at the top of their lungs.

"I don't want to play anymore," Percy whined. Then he turned on his heel and marched straight to his dad who was in deep conversation with a rugged man with sandy brown hair speckled with grey streaks.

"What a cry baby." Cedric rolled his eyes. He cocked his head over to two kids clinging onto their mum's skirt. "Oy, Ron! Ginny! Wanna play?" The boy named Ron buried his face in his mum's robes as the girl Ginny continued to suck her thumb. Blaise giggled. Her face suddenly twisted into a devilish smirk.

"HUG TAG!" She roared nearly choking Susan in a headlock. She then sprinted away as Susan chased after the other kids. One pudgy boy with black hair tripped and howled. Blaise stumbled over him and laughed at his face.

"Oh, get up Neville. It's only grass." He threw her a misty-eyed glare. She pulled him up anyways and threw her arms over him. "YOU'RE IT!" She laughed and dashed away again.

"Noy fair. Susan was it. You'y making up wooles." His lip quivered. Blaze cackled wildly as she danced around him.

"But it's my party, Neville," she sang. She skipped away just as he tried to grab her. His nose wrinkled in concentration.

"I'm gonna get you, Blaise Zabini!" He declared triumphantly. The little blonde stuck out her tongue and tore down the yard leaving Neville to choke on her dust. She found Susan standing by the line for the Balloon Mage. As Blaise drew nearer, she saw her friend in tears.

"What wrong, Susan?" She pulled the girl to her. Susan pointed to the pigtailed blonde who stood a few feet from them, tapping her foot.

"S-she said my mum and dad were dead. And I was going to an orphanage." Susan's lip trembled. Blaise glared at the girl who only widened her eyes.

"Well, it's true. That's what my mum said. She has no family." Blaise gasped and covered Susan's ears.

"Don't say that! That's mean!" She hissed at the girl. She narrowed her eyes. "And her Uncle Dedalus is her family. So there!"

The other girl rolled her eyes. "But that's not her _real_ family." Susan wailed. Blaise took a step closer.

"Who are you?! Why are you here?!" The other girl stuck out her lip.

"I'm Hannah Abbot. My parents took me here," she said turning up her nose and crossing her arms. Blaise raised her brow.

"Well, maybe it's time they took you back."

"Who said?"

"Me." 

"And who are you?!"

"I'm the bloody birthday girl!"

"Blaise!" A dark-haired woman ran over and scooped the irate girl in her arms. "Language, young lady," she said sternly rubbing her nose against the child's with a smile.

"Sorry, mama," Blaise mumbled. Vanessa looked to her husband, Zon. He nodded and with a flick of his wand produced a hefty cake under the gazebo.

"Everyone, follow me," Vanessa called over her shoulder. "It's time for Blaise to blow out the candles." 

Blaise stood in front of the cake swinging her arms excitedly at her side. Susan sniffled beside her as Cedric took his spot on Blaise's right. A total of 8 or so redheads lined around the table as Hannah, Neville, a dazed looking girl, and several other family-friend kids crowded around. The adults oohed and ahhed around them, delighted in the cuteness of their offspring. Blaise turned to Cedric and rolled her eyes.

"Everybody's doting on ickle Blazy," he cooed. She pinched his arm. Cedric made a dramatic show of pain and smeared some icing on Blaise's cheek to avenge himself. Susan covered her mouth with a giggly snort.

"Oooooh, Cedric … that's bad. We're supposed to eat that cake!" Percy scolded over Neville's shoulder. Cedric rolled his eyes as one of the twins lunged forward.

"Here, have some then, Percy!" Fred or George, whichever, plowed an icing-caked finger over Percy's shocked face. The kids roared in laughter. The adults had been too preoccupied, crowding around the camera that Arthur Weasley handled tittering softly.

"Urgh, Weasley's," Hannah scoffed, eying the scuffle between Percy and his brothers. "My mum said they're riffraff. Why are _they_ here?" Blaise and Susan exchanged glances.

The following pictures taken on Blaise Zabini's 5th birthday followed. Blaise and Susan, fists oozing with cake, jumping on a bewildered Hannah. Percy sticking out his lip as he wiped his glasses. Fred, George, whichever, covering Percy's face with more icing. Cedric lazily yanking Blaise off a disheveled, red-faced Hannah. Ginny sucking her thumb. Ron covering his head with a tablecloth. Neville laughing and silenced when Luna Lovegood shoveled cake into his face. Moody waving his cane as Blaise and the Weasley twins jumped on him. Rhonda exchanging small smiles with Albus Dumbledore. Zon wrapping his arms behind Vanessa's waist. And Remus Lupin calmly licking the icing splattered on his left cheek.

More pictures followed but most of it consisted of Blaise grinning wickedly as she chased the photographer around the castle. 

Blaise's Wish for Her 7th Birthday

In the bright, airy kitchen of the Diggory's, two children sat at the dining table. They both had silvery blond hair with golden streaks and almond shaped eyes. The boy had a broad, square jaw but the rest of his features were slender and well rounded. His grey eyes stood out from his face and thick black eyelashes framed them. He was tall, toned well for his age, and tanned from his summer days in the sun. 

The girl's honey-tinted tan camouflaged the tiny freckles across her short, button nose. She had vivid indigo eyes with thick, heavy lashes. Her hair flowed past her waist, and fell over her eyes. Her fleshy, bee-stung lips had a perennial smirk that only made her eyes glow brighter. She was petite and skinny, looking younger than her actual age. She also had bandages across her elbows and knees, from her many excursions in the orchard. She kept her hair in a ponytail. And there was always a smudge of dust on the tip of her nose. They were Cedric Diggory and Blaise Zabini respectively.

Cedric squirmed in his seat, preoccupied with something in front of him. Blaise sniggered quietly as she swung her jiggered trainers from the chair. Suddenly, she blinked up at the tall blonde woman in front of her. Cedric stuck out his tongue as he stuffed the bunny back into his overalls. Both children kept an innocent expression on their face as the woman twisted from her cauldron to face them.

"Are you two up to something?" She asked inclining a brow.

Blaise's eyes widened as the bunny almost hopped out of Cedric's shirt. 

"Umm … no." Cedric said as he grabbed some asparagus stalks from the table. The woman snorted.

"Are you sure?" Blaise suddenly clapped her hands.

"Cedric's mum, where do babies come from?"

"What?" Her ladle fell into the pot. 

"Babies," Blaise said blinking her eyes as Cedric muffled his giggles. "How do they get here?" Mrs. Diggory blushed.

"I don't know if you're old enough to know that, sweetie."

"Why? I'm almost seven years old."

"That's still too young," Cedric's mum grinned. "And I know you're just asking this because you don't want me to know Cedric's brought another furball into the house."

"MUM!" Cedric gasped. Blaise groaned.

"I told you she has eyes in the back of her head!" Mrs. Diggory laughed. "But we had to take him in. The bunny's lost!" Cedric nodded in agreement.

"And he's hungry, Mum. I promise, we'll just feed Mr. Bugs, so he'll get stronger. And then we'll take him back to the orchard."

"Aha, so he's got a name now?"

"No, he told us his name's Bugs," Blaise said matter-of-factly. Mrs. Diggory smirked.

"Okay, you can keep him." They cheered and jumped off their seats. "But clean up after him! I don't want to be stepping on any of Bugs' … bugs." She shook her head.

Cedric had already bounded up the stairs. Blaise turned to Mrs. Diggory and wrapped her arms around the woman's waist.

"Thanks, Cedric's mum." Mrs. Diggory laughed.

"How many times must I tell you, Blaise? In this house, you can call me Mum or Gwen."

"I keep forgetting. Can I just call you McGee? Only Mama is my mum." She shrugged shyly. 

Gwen smiled. "McGee sounds lovely. Very creative. I'd love for you to call me that. But, what does it mean?" Blaise returned her smile.

"**Mum of **C**edric, ****Gwen." Mrs. Diggory's eyes shimmered with pride. Blaise twirled a lock of hair in her finger. "Sorry we tried to trick you. And it's okay. I already know where babies come from."**

"Y-you do?" She laughed nervously. Blaise grinned proudly.

"Yeah! Dad said they ordered me through owl."

Gwenyth Diggory's eyes twinkled as Blaise followed Cedric up the stairs. She sighed and turned back to the stove.

"Well, that's one way to put it."

Cedric held out an asparagus for Bugs as Blaise kneeled on the floor and rested her elbows on his bed.

"So when does your muggle school start again?" He asked as Blaise played with Bugs' tail. She frowned.

"Start of September. But I wish I could go with you to Hogwarts. But mum says I'm too young." Cedric shrugged.

"We'll write. Oh yeah, you DO know how to write, don't you?" He teased. Blaise stuck her tongue at him.

"I know how! I'm learning _cursive_ next year. And Mrs. Kaiser wants me to join the gifted students studying group. She's says I've sir-past the stand-durd coo-reek-coo-loom and studying ad-vans would be poh-duck-tive. Whatever that means. It sounds cool though." Cedric rolled on his bed laughing. Bugs' nose twitted as it hopped in his chest. 

"The words you know, sheesh. You should just go to Hogwarts with me now. Just one more year! I can't wait!"

Her eyes brightened. "I want to go there so bad! But Dad and Mum don't know which school they want me in. Dad went to Durmstang. Mum went to Beauxbatons. But Gran went to Hogwarts. And Gran's so cool." She sighed. 

"You have to go to Hogwarts. I'm in Hogwarts," Cedric insisted. "Besides, do students in Durmstang and Beauxbatons speak English?" Blaise frowned.

"I don't think they speak a lot of it."

"Yeah, your parents still have weird accents."

"That's because they're funny," Blaise giggled.

"Why can't you just stay home? Susan's studying at home," he said.

Blaise shrugged. "Who'd teach me? They both work. Only Mama will be home in the afternoon."

"My mum could look after you." Blaise wrinkled her nose.

"Yeah, I told Mama that. But she said your mum would be too busy."

"But why would she be busy? I'm not gonna be here, because Dad's enrolled me in Junior Wizarding camp for the year – BUGS!"

The bunny had hopped off Cedric's chest, bounced on Blaise's head, and scurried down the stairs. The kids ran after it, skipping over the tiny droppings Bugs' cottontail left behind.

"Mum's not going to like this," Cedric groaned twenty minutes later, after they ransacked the Diggory's living room. Blaise pinched at a stitch in her side. She had been laughing too hard.   

Her family celebrated Blaise's 7th birthday at Villa Monteverde again. 

"Happy Birthday, Blaise!" Oma (Grandma) Rhonda greeted scooping Blaise in her arms and twirling her easily around the castle's front yard. Zon ran to the pair.

"Ma, your back!" He gasped as he lifted Blaise from the woman's embrace.

"Oh, stop being a hen, sweetie. The bogey's light as feather!" Rhonda kissed Vanessa on the cheek and ruffled Cedric's hair. Cedric always accompanied Blaise to the parties. He hung with her everywhere. "How's your mum and dad, handsome?" Rhonda grinned locking Cedric in another embrace. He muffled a reply, but Rhonda's robes drowned him out.

"Is Susan here yet?" Blaise asked standing on her toes. Since her 5th birthday, Blaise became a little more specific with her guests. As in, she _explicitly_ told her folks she wanted Susan, Cedric, Neville, the Weasley's, the Lovegood's, Moody, Hagrid, and everyone else BUT Hannah Fart-face Abbott to attend her party. 

Unfortunately, the first kid she saw had the trademark pigtails and pinkish face. This face leered at Blaise before pivoting back to face the mime gagging on a flavored bean. Blaise let out a groan and yanked her dad's robes.

"Pa, what's that Hannah doing here?!" She whined. Zon grinned shyly.

"Well, Blaise her folks are your mum's friends. We couldn't invite them and have them leave her home."

"I don't want her here! She made Susan cry! And last year, she tripped Neville _on purpose. Just because Neville laughed at her stupid pigtails." Well, he wouldn't have laughed at them if Blaise hadn't accidentally-on-purpose jinxed them to grunt but that was beside the point. Rhonda tutted as she pulled Blaise to the group of kids gathered around a flamethrower._

"Don't let one brat get you down, sweetie. It's your birthday." Blaise nodded slowly as Oma pecked her again on the cheek. Susan called to her. Blaise waved back and ran to her friend, avoiding Hannah's narrowed eyes the whole time.

Susan and a couple of other kids had sat along the stone hedge. Blaise raised her brow when she noticed Susan held a boy's hand in her lap. 

"What are you doing?" Blaise asked wrinkling her nose. She noticed Ginny Weasley had her arm around Neville. He giggled as he chewed on a treacle.

"This's Ernie," Susan smiled goofily. "He's my boyfriend!" The girls giggled loudly while Ernie scowled.

"I'm not your boyfriend! Girls are ugly!" He hopped off the fence and stormed over to Ron and his twin brothers who had brought some Exploding Snap. 

"Oh, it was fun while it lasted, Ernie!" Susan called blowing him a kiss. Blaise rolled her eyes and took a treacle Neville offered. "My cousin Althea has a new boyfriend. She brings him to the house all the time. He's smelly."

Blaise snickered. "What about Stewart then?"

"She broke up with him. She said _it was fun while it lasted, Stewy! He cried. Boys are stupid." Neville tried to say something but the treacle glued his mouth shut. _

"Oh well, we have to break up now, Neville," Ginny yawned. "I wanna play Exploding Snap." She hopped off the fence as Neville attempted to talk again.

Blaise twirled on her toes. "I wanna break up with a boyfriend!"

"You need a boyfriend first. Here use, Neville." Susan pushed him to Blaise. 

Blaise pushed him back. "But he was Ginny's boyfriend. I want my own."

"Get one of the Weasley's." Blaise spun around and counted at least five redheads. All of them looked like Fred. 

"Never mind. Picking one's too much trouble. Let's just play hide and go seek." Susan and Blaise exchanged smirks.

"NEVILLE'S IT!" They roared. Suddenly, all the kids yelped and scrambled away ducking into various shrubs and trees as Neville sighed and covered his eyes.

"Wun, to, twee, pour, pive …"

Hours later, Blaise and her friends gathered around another enormous birthday cake. _Happy 7th Birthday, Blaise! Everyone chorused. She grinned ear to ear. _

"Make a wish, Blaise!" Oma Rhonda called over Percy's shoulder. Blaise scanned the group of people around her.

She saw her dad snuggling with mum under the gazebo. Ron's mum was fixing Mr. Weasley's hat. Susan and Ernie held hands again, while Ginny had her arm around Neville's shoulders. And just then, she saw Padre peck Oma gently on the cheek.

Blaise closed her eyes tight and said to herself, "I wish I had a boyfriend so I could break up with him, hold his hand, fix him up, hug, and kiss on the cheek. Oh, and he has to be really nice to me too like Cedric."

She blew the candles and all eight of them went out in one shot. 

"Hey, Blaise, you blew them all out! That means your wish'll come true!" Neville pointed and successfully jabbed his finger into the icing. "Opps!" Not thinking, he wiped it on Ginny's cheek.

"No not again! Hey, kids-" Vanessa tried to say, but Zon pulled her back to him. Meanwhile, Blaise already smeared icing on Padre's crooked nose as he cuddled her in his billowing indigo robes. 

The Little Park in Little Whinging

Blaise woke up two nights later in a fit of tears. Vanessa rolled over her husband as he grunted blearily.

"What happened? Why's she crying?" He groaned with his eyes still closed. Vanessa wrapped her bathrobe around her and threw a pillow at his face.

"I'm going to find out, silly. Just might be a bad dream. Go back to sleep."

He snored in response as Vanessa jogged up the stairs to Blaise's floor. She tapped lightly on the door as the girl behind it sniffled loudly.

"Honey? Are you all right in there?" She opened the door to find Blaise sitting in her bed covering her eyes. Vanessa scooped the child in her arms. "What happened, Blazy? Mama's here. It's all right."

"Mama, the grumpy man shoved the boy in the closet again," Blaise wailed. "I saw him and it was dark in there, Mama! And no one helped the boy."

"What boy, Blaise? What do you mean again?"

"The boy I always see in my dreams. The boy with the scar on his head."

Vanessa stiffened. She titled her daughter's face to her. "Y-you see a boy with a scar on his head?" Blaise nodded as Vanessa smoothed away the damp hair from her face. 

"His scar looked like-" She gestured in the air making a lighting bolt. Her eyes were round with curiosity.

"Blaise, you must keep that a secret."

"But it's just you, Mama."

"Even still. It's a secret magic scar. You can't tell anyone about it. Not even Cedric."

"I know, Mama. But what about the boy? Can Papa get him? He's all by himself," her lip began to tremble again. Vanessa pulled the child closer to her. "Please, Mama. Tell Papa to get him. I don't know who he is, but he needs help."

"I-I'll tell your dad. You just sleep now. No … don't worry about the boy. He'll be fine." Blaise reluctantly reclined back on her bed. Vanessa kissed her on her forehead.

Vanessa crawled back in bed minutes later. "Was it a nightmare?" Zon asked. 

She thought over what Blaise had just said and decided to tell her husband the truth. "Blaise dreamt of a boy, Zon. I think it was the Potter's son." This time, Zon sat up from bed.

"_Quatsch?!"_

"Zon, she said the boy in her dream had a scar on his forehead. And you can't overlook what happened to her that night! I think she _is seeing him."_

"Okay. I'm not arguing with you here. It's just …"

"Unusual? Dangerous? I'm all too aware of it. Don't you think we should tell Dumbledore this?"

"_Du__ miene Güte. That would be a very uncomfortable conversation."_

"_Et si? Frankly, Zon, _Je___ m'en fou! Why must we walk on eggshells?! This's our daughter. Of all the people to dream about, she dreams of the boy. She's having nightmares. And quite, honestly, I don't like this whole situation. Dumbledore should know. He could bloody have all the answers! I think we should forego all our stupid pretenses and help our child!"_

"Okay, take it easy! I'm just not keen on talking to Dumbledore."

"_Mon dieu. You're just sore because he supplied testimony against Sirius."_

"Yes, Van. I am sore about that. Look. I'm just saying that we don't always have to run to him for every situation. I'll check up on the boy myself. Yes, I know where he is. He's very well-protected there though. I don't see why Blaise would think …" Vanessa sighed and pulled him to lay beside her. 

"Please, _mon__ minet, just check if he's all right. I'm sure she'll be convinced when you tell her he is fine. I think the dreams'll stop." Zon bit his lip._

"What if he's not all right?" They turned to look at each other.

"Then would you go to Dumbledore?"

"Or we could adopt him." They exchanged tired smiles.

Next day during lunch, Blaise pounced on her dad as he read the Daily Prophet. He spilled a bit of pumpkin juice on his shirt that Vanessa whisked away with a flick of her wand. 

"Papa, you're going to see the boy?" She asked widening her vivid violet-blue eyes on him. His own violet-blue eyes twinkled as he pulled her to his lap.

"As soon as I finish lunch, sweetie."

"Can I come with you?" 

Vanessa glanced at him and shook her head.

"Ah, sorry, sweetie, but you can't. You see, after I check up on the boy, I have to go to Diagon Alley and buy some books for my classes. That's just errands for adults." 

"You're going back to Durmstang again?" She groaned. He laughed.

"Well, I do teach there, Blaise. But I'll come back every other weekend like I always do. And Mama's going to work too. In Spain!" Blaise turned to her mum.

"Can I go with you to Spain, Mama?" Vanessa smiled.

"No, dear. I'll be busy with a case there. You'll get bored staying in the inn. But you get to stay with Oma and you'll see your classmates again on the island. And just like last year, Papa and I'll visit every weekend." Blaise seemed to find the thought of staying with her grandma appealing so she resigned to pick at her sandwich. Two minutes later, she pushed her plate aside.

"I'm going to Cedric's to play," she called over her shoulder as she hastily stuffed her feet into her trainers. Zon folded up his newspaper and pecked Vanessa on the cheek.

"I'll be back in a bit, love," he said and walked out the door. When he reached the end of their driveway, he stuck out his wand hand and waited as the bougainvilleas beside him swayed. Minutes later, the Knight Bus popped a few feet in front of him. Zon boarded and headed to the end of the bus just as it lurched forward again. He sat down only to find a pair of eyes twinkling in front of him. 

"Blaise!" He gasped as she giggled and flopped on the seat next to him. "You're not supposed to, how did you, your mum's going to kill me," he groaned. But he planted a kiss on his daughter's head as she stared out the window.

"It's okay, Papa. You need me there. How else are you going to know it's him?" He almost said he would know the boy in her dream, but Blaise did have a valid reason. "Where are we going?" She whispered. He marveled how she seemed to understand the secrecy of the mission.

"There's a narrow alleyway that forms a shortcut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. That's our bus stop. Then we'll walk a little over a block to a street called Privet Drive."

Blaise nodded, not realizing her father had divulged to her some extraordinary facts. But the little girl always assumed her father knew everything. Her mind focused on the skinny boy in her dream. He was about her age if not the same, with lop-sided spectacles, a scar on his forehead, and jet-black hair. She found the messiness of his hair fascinating. She also found his loneliness pulled at her heart. In her dreams, she saw him and felt his misery. However, being a child, she didn't know what to call it.

After a zigzag ride that made Zon nauseous and Blaise giggly, the pair exited the bus. He clasped her hand in his as they followed the sidewalk leading into Privet Drive. Blaise stared avidly at the houses.

"Fancy living here, Blaise?" He asked following her gaze to a muggle mowing the lawn.

"Not really," she said lightly. "All the houses look the same, how would I know which one is home? And there's no gnomes in the garden. No garden's fun without them. And I like our river. And Cedric lives close, And …"

"Okay! I take it that you like our place," he chuckled. Blaise beamed and skipped lightly to catch up with her dad's strides. 

The Dursley's home loomed just several paces away when someone called over to the pair.

"Zabini, what are you doing here?" Zon looked up in surprise but grinned when he saw an old woman glaring at him over her mailbox.

"Hi, Mrs. Figg. Just taking my daughter for walk," he said sending her a toothy grin that made many a witch melt into a puddle of giggles. Unfortunately, Arabella Figg was a Squib.

"I should report you to Dumbledore for this. Heck, I'd tell Rhonda! But …" She glanced down at Blaise who blinked up at her and gave the woman a shy smile. "Why hello there, pretty. What's your name?"

"My name is Blaise Ophelia Zabini," she replied flashing Mrs. Figg the same killer-watt grin. To Zon's astonishment, Arabella smiled back. 

"Well, no harm in bringing her here. The boy could use a friend. That is if you find him. Those muggles never let him out of the house." The woman frowned. "But I did see that aunt of his leave the place. I'm not sure to where though."

"We can wait," Zon said. Arabella stepped aside.

"Well, I don't usually entertain guests, but I can brew up some tea for you while you wait then," said Mrs. Figg, not seeming at all peeved to have people over. 

"Thanks, Mrs. Figg. Coming, Blaise?"

"Oh, she'll get bored with our chatter, Zon. Pretty, why don't you go to the park? It's just a ways from here. One of my cats will show you."

"Oh, can Mr. Tibbles come with me, please?" Blaise perked.

"Why yes, I was just going to suggest – How did you know his names was Mr. Tibbles?" Mrs. Figg raised her brows to Zon who shrugged with a smile.

"He told me," Blaise simply said. At that, she and Mr. Tibbles ran out of Mrs. Figg's yard and dashed along the sidewalk to the park. 

When Blaise reached the park, she saw several children already playing around the monkey bars and tube slide. Although she never feared approaching other kids, Blaise sat on a swing keeping her distance. A group of bigger kids huddled over to the side. They had gathered around something. They were kicking sand into the center, and yelling out bad words that Blaise herself got scolded over. The yelling grew louder. To the point that Blaise's hair began to stand on her neck. 

Just then, the crowd parted and a skinny boy stumbled out. He ran from the other kids, as one particularly fat boy shouted to him.

"Scared are you, Potter?" He sneered. The other kids howled in laughter. Blaise frowned as she saw the boy limp over to the swing next to her. He leaned on the post catching his breath. Blaise cleared her throat. He looked up in surprise. 

Grime and sweat covered his entire face and his hair looked as if the kids had pulled on it. He blinked up blindly at her as his hand trembled with what looked like broken glasses.

"You can sit here. Catch your breath," Blaise said patting on the swing next to her. He mumbled his thanks and sulked on the swing. He tried to rearrange his glasses. Meanwhile, the group of big kids began chanting:

"Poor boy Potter has no friends, Poor boy Potter has no home, Poor boy Potter has dirty knickers, Poor boy Potter all alone!"

"Don't mind them," the boy said quietly. Blaise looked away from the group. "Dudley and his friends only tease when they have nothing better to do." She wrinkled her nose at the fattest boy with the loudest voice. Of course, that oaf was Dudley. Stupid boy, stupid name. 

"Why do they do that? Why do they make other kids cry?"

"I'm not crying," he said quickly. Blaise jumped off her swing and stared at him.

"No … you're not." He looked startled that she had been staring at him thoroughly. "But you're all dirty." She pulled up the hem of her skirt and wiped at his face. The boy seemed too shocked at her gestures to pull away. Blaise stepped back to study the boy's grime-free face. 

"You have a scar on your head," she simply said. The boy nodded.

"Ever since I was a baby."

"Where did you get it?" Her eyes widened.

"Umm … car accident my uncle told me." He looked away. Something in his expression made Blaise want to hug him. She bit her lip.

"Why do they say you're poor?" In Blaise's mind, poor was just a grade one gets if they did a bad job on their spelling tests.

"They say I have nothing. And it's kinda true. I'm wearing hand-me-downs and everything I have is broken or just junk. I don't even have a real room. It's just a cup … It's a small room." Something dropped on the ground. Blaise bent and picked it up.

"You dropped this." It was a watch. The clasp came loose in the boy's tussle.

He took it from her gingerly. "Yeah, this's mine too. I got it ticking a few days ago … It just worked a little. Dudley broke it again," he muttered. He sighed. "Everything I have _is_ rubbish." He eyed Blaise shyly. She took the watch from his hand.

"It's broken. But it's still yours." She clasped it back on his wrist. "I keep my mum's empty perfume bottles. I don't think they're junk. I make it my own." She scratched her nose as she studied the watch's cracked dial. "It's junk to Dudley but it's special to you, right? He can break it, but he can't change your mind about it. That's all."  

The boy stared at his watch with a newfound interest. He smiled shyly at Blaise. "Thanks."

She shuffled her feet. "Don't get mad, but I was told that fighting's bad," Blaise mumbled. He snorted.

"I'm not starting the fights. They always find me. And even if I don't wanna do it, I still try to fight back."

"But aren't you scared?"

"Sometimes. Mostly I just get mad, you know? But … if I don't stick up for me, who will? I don't have a mum or dad. It's just me."

For once, Blaise had nothing to say. She reached for his hand instead. He stared at their interlocked hands and smiled gratefully at her. The group of boys rounded on them.

"Hey, Potty-head! Didn't you hear me calling you?" The fat boy named Dudley grunted as his equally hefty sidekicks snickered beside him. Blaise didn't see anything funny with what he said. She curled her lip at them.

"How anyone hear you with your blubber covering half your throat?" She snapped. The boy with the scar gawked at her, as did Dudley and his group. "Whenever you talk you sound like a cow. Your arse alone's big as one." Dudley's beady eyes flashed.

"Who are-"

"There it goes!" Blaise drawled cupping her hand over her ear. "MOOOOOO!"

"What are-"

"MOOOOOOO!" Dudley's friends chuckled as Dudley's whole face turned magenta. 

"You better watch your mouth, girl! Or I'll-"

"Or you'll what, udder boy?" Blaise challenged stepping closer to Dudley. He easily outweighed her by fifty pounds, but she defiantly poked Dudley on the chest. He raised his fist. 

The boy with the scar pulled her away. "Leave her alone, Dudley. Why do you wanna bully girls too?"  Dudley narrowed his eyes.

"This your new girlfriend, Pot-face?" He glanced at Blaise's lacey sundress to the boy's raggedy, holey ensemble. Blaise realised Dudley called her Pot-face's girlfriend. "I know, _Pooter_. You're her garbage boy. All garbage boys are orphans."

Pooter hurled himself at Dudley. His effort wouldn't have been much, but Blaise deftly kicked Dudley in the shins as well. The chubby boy howled.

"_Dinky-diddy-dums!" A shrill voice yelled. The kids circling Blaise, Pooter, and Dudley scrambled away as a woman twatted Pooter on the head with her purse. _

"Geroffme!" He growled. Blaise pulled him away as the woman fussed over Dudley who had chosen to root his arse on the ground and drown in his puddle of tears and snot. 

"Are you okay?" Blaise asked Pooter. He looked up at her. That's when she noticed his bright green eyes. He lifted his broken spectacles to his face. He used the lens with fewer cracks to peer up at her.

"Yeah. You look okay too," he said. He staggered to his feet. Blaise suddenly took his broken glasses.

"I broke my grandma's glasses once. I fixed it though, before she found out." She closed her eyes and concentrated. 

"Harry!" He tore his gaze off Blaise to see Dudley's mum glowering at him. "You come here this instant!"

He turned back to Blaise. She smiled and held out his glasses. They were good as new. Well, except for the tape in between the lenses' frames.

"How did you do that?" He gasped as Dudley's mum yelled again. 

"Magic," she said with a shrug. He smiled at her and wore them. Blaise's whole face brightened. She knew him. He was the boy in her dreams.

"Okay. Magic." He smirked. Suddenly, she felt very shy. He didn't seem lonely right then. But she couldn't imagine he lived with Dudley. She didn't know about the cupboard under the stairs. She only knew that he wore glasses, had a scar on his head, and never cried when bullies teased him.

"What's your name?" She mumbled blushing hotly.

"HARRY POTTER!" They both turned to Dudley's mum.

"That's me. I'll see you," he said reluctantly. Blaise nodded biting her lip. She watched the three of them leave. The boy named Harry Potter followed Dudley a few steps away. As if they pretended that they didn't know him. She watched them turn a corner. She watched until she could see him no longer. Then she watched the horizon as the sun began to set in colors of red and gold.

"Blaise?" Her dad walked through the park's gate with Mrs. Figg. "We saw the boy go into his house, sweetie. He looks fine. Happy even. I'm sorry you didn't get to see him." 

She almost said she met him already, but she only nodded in response. As the pair of them walked back to the alleyway between Wisteria and Magnolia, it dawned on Blaise that Harry Potter _was _her boyfriend. Well, if one considered Dudley's comment. She also noted soberly that she didn't break up with him, kiss him on the cheek, and all that other good stuff. Well … At least, she fixed his glasses.   

They boarded the Knight Bus again. As her dad snored in the seat next to her, Blaise's thoughts drifted back to the boy. Something about him made her want to see him again, if just for one more time.

*********** 

Thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing. ~Nengski


	3. The Child Is Gone

Chapter 2: The Child is Gone

All is Forgiven and Forgotten

It had been a day Blaise never wanted to forget. Seeing the boy in her dreams filled her with a rush that she never felt before. It bordered somewhere between flying on her father's broom and her first taste of chocolate. She promised to herself that she'd find a way to see him again. At least, before school started. She could drag Cedric with her too. She never once questioned why she had this urge to see Harry Potter again. She was just a child, acting on her instinct. Acting on her heart.

The horizon glowed a dusky lavender as Zon and Blaise walked up the steps to their home in Creer Upon Libby. Zon reached for the golden knob just as the door flew open and Vanessa threw herself into his arms, sobbing loudly.

"ZON! Where have you been?! Something terrible happened! I can't find her anywhere! I – BLAISE!" Vanessa slammed on her knees and scooped Blaise into a fierce embrace. Just then Amos Diggory apparated behind Zon.

"AH! I see you've found the little one, Zon!" Amos sighed patting the stunned man in the back. "Van went into a frenzy here just after you left. The whole Ministry went into action. Not every day a wizarding family loses a child. Haven't seen that since the days of You-Know-Who."

"Uh, no. We haven't," Zon stammered. "Blaise was with me, Amos. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding." Amos waved his hand.

"No harm done. It's good to know the Ministry acts quickly. Had several Aurors already looking into some of You-Know-Who's correspondents. The patrol had its hands full questioning muggles and wizards alike. But you get inside now. Calm down, Van here. I'll let everyone know Blaise's alive and well." He tilted his hat and disappeared as Zon pulled Van into the house. Blaise followed them silently. 

Vanessa pulled Blaise into the couch next to her and fussed over the girl checking her eyes, her throat, her hands. "Where in Merlin's name did you run off to?! I saw Cedric playing Quidditch with the twins but he said you never came. I searched the whole house for you! I called the Lovegood's, Molly Weasley, even the Vanderbeek's who live two villages down from here! I threatened to sue the Law Enforcement Patrol if they didn't step into action! Oma's worried sick as well!"

Zon placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Calm down, Van. Blaise followed me. She was with me the whole time." She twisted up to him.

"You knew?! And you didn't bother telling me?!"

"I'm sorry. I had no idea you'd worry. I planned on coming back straight away-"

"It's been three hours, Zon! The patrol wouldn't do anything until she'd been gone for ten hours. Do you know what could happen in ten hours?!"

"I'm sorry, Mama," Blaise said sniffing against Vanessa's robes. Vanessa stopped her rant and pulled Blaise closer to her.

"Sweetie …" She sighed closing her eyes. "You can't go off running away like that. There's a different world out there. Not everyone is like Oma, your Papa, and me. Not everyone is your friends like the Weasley's or the Diggory's. You … You had me so worried. I had the most awful fears. I didn't know what to do." Zon sat next to Van and wrapped his arms around both.

"Van, I promise I'll let you know everything. We're both sorry." She nodded and kissed Blaise on the forehead.

"Blaise, go to your room. It's okay, sweetie. Papa and I just have to talk." Blaise nodded reluctantly and ran up the stairs. Yulee followed her with a glass of milk.

Zon sighed and cradled his head in his hands. "I was an arse to forget. I _know_ how sensitive you are to these things, Van." She bit her lip and wrapped an arm around his.

"Do you now, really?" She whispered. "You can't imagine what came into my head. I thought someone took her away. I-I thought she'd been locked away somewhere, calling for us, but we weren't there. Can you imagine what she'd go through? That fear? That frustration? I lived all that once, Zon. For three hours, I lived it again. Only it was our little girl …" She choked back a sob. "I'd take her place in a heartbeat."

He squeezed her trembling shoulders. "Van, it's okay. Blaise is okay. Please … stop this. Be angry with me, but just stop reminiscing about the past. That's never going to happen again."

"How can you be so sure?" She asked in a hushed voice.

He kissed her on the forehead, pulling her closer to him so that she could feel his heart beat next to hers. "You're not a little girl anymore. And Blaise and I are your family now. He can't hurt you anymore. None of them can."

Vanessa closed her eyes. "I just … I just want to keep all that ugliness from her, Zon. It just gets tough keeping it from her when it's still in my skin. And I just can't … I just want to scream and take it all off! I just …" Vanessa choked back another sob.

"Breathe, love." Zon murmured.  

"I love that kid so much."

"I  know. I do too."

"If something bad happened-"

"Nothing happened. She had an exciting day. Riding on the Knight Bus, playing in the park. It was a good day for her. Please … seeing you like this will upset her."

"You're right. _Zut__!_ I wish I could just erase all the bad stuff in my brain. I wish nothing haunted me, Zon. I wish it wasn't there breathing down my neck. Forgetting it all would make me a better parent."

"You're a great parent, Van. You're a great mum."

"I … I just get scared thinking I might fail her."

"We all do. I think it comes with the territory. But as long as we're looking out for each other … we'll make it. You're the best figure for her. You're strong. You're a fighter. The kid can see that. I do. I always did."

They sat there locked in each other's embrace. Zon's words warmed the chill that had crawled down Vanessa's spine. He always did that for her. She knew she couldn't get through the day without it. She twisted her neck to him and kissed him softly on the mouth.

"Go now, Zon. You still have time for your errands." He kissed her hand.

"You'll be fine here?" She smiled in reply.

"I need to clean the place. I got a little agitated in my search." She gestured to several overturned tables and unhinged portraits. "But I'm going to check on our daughter first. I don't want her to go to bed thinking the wrong things." Zon nodded and stood to his feet. He pulled Van up beside him.

"Okay. I'll be back soon. Love you."

"Love you more."  

Vanessa flicked her wand and left the furniture up righting themselves. She went quietly up the stairs to find Blaise sitting on the top step. Yulee sat beside the child, urging her to have some milk or a bit of a sandwich. When Blaise saw her mum approach, she shot to her feet, twisting the hem of her dress in her hands.

"Mama, I'm so sorry," she said tearfully. Van jogged up the remaining steps and pulled Blaise into her arms. She nodded to Yulee with a grateful smile. The elf curtsied and popped out of sight.

"Don't cry, sweetie. It's okay. Mama's not mad."

"But I made you mad at Papa."

Vanessa tutted as she carried Blaise to her room. "I wasn't mad at Papa. I was just worried. That's normal. Mamas always worry." They sat down on Blaise's little bed. Vanessa brushed the hair off the girl's face. 

"But I went even when you said no. That was bad."

Vanessa sighed. Zon was right. Blaise was upset. And as much as Vanessa wanted her daughter to understand the danger that was out there. She didn't want the girl to grow up fearing it. So she told Blaise a simple truth.

"Blaise, you don't have to do everything I say. I know I'll try to make you, but you don't have to. All I can do is tell you everything I know and hope you make the right decisions on your own. And you don't always have to be right." She bit her lip as her seven-year-old daughter blinked her eyes up at her. Vanessa began to feel ridiculous talking to her child like this, when Blaise nodded and squeezed her hand.

"I understand, Mama. It's like choosing to not let bullies make me cry. And … keeping a broken watch because I still like it."

Vanessa nodded not really understanding what Blaise meant, but the child seemed to know what she was talking about. Making Vanessa feel relieved that Zon's intelligence rubbed off on her.

"I just care about you, you know? Look at this way. You were with your Papa. So you were safe. And that's all that matters to me. I just want you safe and happy." Vanessa quickly blinked back her tears. "Papa said you had fun. Did you?" She asked hoping she'd find something cheery to think over.

Blaise smiled shyly. "Kinda. I went on the swings. And I met the boy."

"You-you did? The boy with the scar?" Vanessa rubbed her forehead. She suspected Blaise didn't tell Zon this.

"Yeah!" She beamed. "Only I didn't know it was him right away. I wiped the dirt off his face. He faced all these mean kids. I fixed his glasses, Mama! And I think he's my boyfriend."

Vanessa's mind reeled. Dumbledore would be cross with them. Rhonda would have their hides. "He saw you? And … did anything else happen?" Her stomach squirmed painfully inside. 

"We pushed a boy down. A mean, fat arse. He cried. Sissy."

Vanessa snorted loudly in spite of herself. "Language, Blaise." She tried to speak calmly when she asked, "And … did you tell the boy about … us?"

Blaise wrinkled her nose. "You mean about wizards?" Van nodded. "No."

Van closed her eyes. "Good. Padre would have a hernia if you did." Blaise bounced on her bed.      

"Can we go back tomorrow, Mama?"

Van snorted. "Blaise, this's not a field trip. There's a lot of things about that boy that I can't say."

"Please … we can all go to the park. I know where it is. I know how to get there. The driver on the Knight Bus knows me. He'll take me straight home-"

Van frowned. "Sounds like you're willing to go there on your own-"

"Not by myself. If you don't wanna go, can Cedric?" She bounced higher on her bed.

Van's expression grew stern. "No, Blaise. No traveling on the Knight Bus. No talking to this boy. You don't know him-"

"His name's Harry Potter! He lives on Privet Drive!" Blaise sang loudly. Van sighed and pulled the girl beside her.

"Blaise, stop it. You can't go on telling that to people." 

"Please, Mama. I wanna see him again. I wanna be his friend." 

"When you're older you'll get that chance. It's just not safe now."

Blaise's lips trembled but no tears fell. This worried Van. The girl seemed to take this harder than she expected she would. But no tantrum followed. Just a look of disappointment and a bit of desperation that Van didn't like seeing on such a young face.

"I'm sorry, Blaise. I'd love for you to be his friend. But-"

"He would never hurt me, Mama. Please. Privet Drive," she said with a trembling voice. Van had to look away.

"Blaise, stop this. Just forget you met him. Harry Potter has a past that … Well, I'll explain it when you're older."

"Mama …"

"Stubborn little girl," she mumbled admirably under her breath. But Blaise's persistence only fueled Vanessa's fears. This was a bright girl. Too bright. Too confident. Too fearless. But still, Van didn't want to instill fear into the child. She wanted Blaise strong. She wanted Blaise to fight. But this fixation on The-Boy-Who-Lived was too much for a mum. Not when Van knew that the threat really stalked out there. Staring at the scars on her own wrists, Van came to a difficult decision. 

"I'm sorry, sweetie. But I can't let you go wandering off to see him again. Forgive me. But one of these days, I hope you understand."

Blaise looked up tiredly. It broke Van's heart. "Understand what, Mama?" 

Van covered the child's eyes.

"_Obliviate." _

Guardian Angel

That day at the park was a trip Harry never expected would happen. But it seemed Aunt Petunia only stringed him along for Dudley's amusement, so the big oaf would stop whining for another bike. He apparently broke the other one. And the other one before that. It seemed even steel couldn't bear the bulk of Dudley Dursley.

Harry had hoped he'd meet some kids at the park. Kids that would _talk to him for a change. But he forgot Dudley would be there too. As soon as Harry dangled gingerly on the monkey bars, Dudley and his friends began kicking sand in his face. Somewhere in the tussle, someone smashed Harry's glasses, pulled his hair, scratched a few buttons off his already knackered shirt. _

It made Harry sick to his stomach. Not because the kids teased him, but because … in the back of his mind, he knew this would happen. He couldn't help feeling this pain in his chest thinking how the one day he had to hang at the park would never turn good for him.

Until he heard a voice. The sweetest voice he'd ever heard. And he looked up, and for a moment … he thought he had seen an angel. The sunlight framed her hair like a halo. Her sleeves billowed around her arms lifting as she swung lightly beside him … like wings.

And when she wiped the grime off his face, it made Harry think about all the times he saw Aunt Petunia fuss over Dudley. All the mums he saw wiping the dribble off their babies. He always sniggered at that smothering. But he found he welcomed her touch. He certainly never remembered anyone doing this for him. 

Most of all, she stood up to Dudley. This also fueled Harry's suspicion that she wasn't real. Because all the kids at school and in the neighborhood feared Dudley. And they all helped bully Harry around. So maybe she was his guardian angel. He saw pictures of them at church. She did look like them. He wished it was Sunday already. He wanted to see those pictures again. Maybe she was in there. He just didn't notice before.     

But it's been weeks since Harry stepped outside his cupboard again. Sighing quietly as he crossed a leg over his cot, Harry taped his glasses back together the best he could in the dark. Uncle Vernon said it would only be fair for Dudley to break his glasses again since Harry pushed him in the park. Dudley tattled on Harry naturally. But he never mentioned the girl. Fact is that his cousin never brought her up for as long as Harry knew him. Harry figured either Dudley had been too embarrassed to talk about it. Or she really was an angel and changed Dudley's memory of the whole incident. Can angels do that? Well, she stood up to Dudley and fixed the glasses, so probably yeah.

Harry finally left his cupboard when school began again. He'd walk past the park every morning and afternoon hoping for a glimpse of the girl on the swing or standing by a tree. She never did come back. But Harry expected that she wouldn't. She had been one of those unexplained things that happened around him. Like his hair growing back overnight.

Soon the years passed and Harry grew older. He forgot about the angel at the park. His memories filled with moments of Dudley tormenting him. His narrow escapes from thorough beatings at school. Everyone around Harry seemed to make his humiliation and alienation their life's ambition. You could say he grew jaded over the years. Not believing he'd attain to much. Believing he'd be stuck with the Dursley's forever. That kind of mental funk would leave little room to believe in an angel. Much less for an angel-visiting in Little Whinging.  

Still, even though he forgot why, Harry Potter kept the busted watch she clasped on years ago.

One of the Big Kids Now

Eight years old is an awkward age. Blaise figured that out soon enough. Suddenly, she was too heavy for Oma to lift up and too big for Papa to swing around. And she didn't like all the big kid clothes Mama made her wear. She hated the belts and button-up shirts. She wanted her Sesame Street shirt and her tattered trainers. Now Mama adorned her with itchy lacey dresses and sandals that pinched her toes painfully together. As much as Blaise found herself fascinated with them, she didn't like becoming a Barbie doll herself. 

Her birthday had been a quiet affair. She only requested Susan, Cedric, Oma, and her folks' attendance. Something about the big crowd of people didn't appeal to her anymore. It always made her feel wanting. Like someone should be there, but he/she wasn't. God knows, Hannah 'Bogey-brain' Abbott always was.

Oma invited the elves to join the family for dinner. Her house arrest made Rhonda desire constant social interaction. Only Rusty joined them, since Rusty had wizard blood in him. The kids loved the tall, slender, blue elf. He trained as a warrior and almost died in a scuffle with trolls when Oma rescued him. He indebted himself to her ever since.

Blaise and Susan watched avidly as Cedric and Rusty reenacted Rusty's nearly fatal scene with the ferocious troll Bern. Cedric grunted and howled his part as Bern while Rusty pretended to pelt the moaning boy with arrows. Cedric lunged at the elf when Rusty gestured to Blaise. That was her cue.

She sprung to her feet and shot out her left hand. 

"Stop right there, troll!" She bellowed. Cedric posed feigning the perfect expression of mortifying fear. "I, Oma Rhonda Zabini, the Great Auror of Villa Monteverde, command you to stop!" She dropped her voice as Susan hugged her knees excitably. "Or you shall face the sequins!"

"CONSEQUENCES!" Rusty barked through the corner of his lip.

"Yeah! Come-sequins!" Blaise roared. Cedric fell to the floor gasping in laughter. Even Rusty gave into chuckling. "I tried," Blaise snorted falling back beside Susan. "You gave me all the big words, Rusty."

They looked up just as her parents walked onto the veranda.

"Hate to cut the fun short, Blaise. But everyone has to go. Cedric's got a big trip tomorrow." Cedric jumped up to his feet and shimmied around the yard.

"Whoo hoo! Hogwarts, Blaise!" She and Susan danced around him. 

"I wish I could go too!" Blaise sighed throwing her arms around him in a bear hug. "Mama, can we speed up my birthday? Do I have to wait 3 years?"

Vanessa laughed and wrapped her arms around Blaise's shoulders. "Yes. And I'm perfectly fine with that. Gives me three years to my baby girl." She smooched loudly on Blaise's cheek making her groan.

"MAMA!" She wiped at her cheek as Cedric and Susan snickered at her.

"Oh, so you're a big kid now?" Van teased. Blaise stuck out her lip but jumped into her mum's arms.

Blaise went with McGee to bid Cedric good-bye. She met Susan at the train station and both girls clung onto the boy's robes. Both wailing as Cedric smiled down goofily at both of them.

"I promise I'll write, Blaise. It's only a few months and I'll be back for the Winter Holiday. I'll write and even send those pictures that move. You'll love it." Mrs. Diggory smiled tearfully at the picture the three made. She quietly took a picture herself as Cedric continued to whisper to Blaise. 

"B-But you're going on a t-train! That means it's f-far!" Blaise sniffed as Susan waved good-bye to her cousin Althea. Cedric ruffled Blaise's hair and laughed.

"Just think, Blaise. You'll be in Hogwarts soon too-"

"Yeah, in three stinking years!"

"And, when you get there, I'll know all the cool places to go, the nice professors. I'll show you the ropes."

"But you won't be around to play! Who's gonna chase the pixies with me?" Blaise's lip trembled. The train whistled. Another tear cascaded down her cheek.

Cedric sighed and took Blaise by the shoulders. He smiled encouragingly at her. She sniffled noisily back.

"Look, Blazy. You're one of the big kids now. Don't be scared. You still have Susan. And I'm always gonna be there for you. Don't worry. You're not gonna lose me. Okay?" She nodded slowly in response. Cedric tickled her making her giggle loudly. "See? You're smiling already. You'll be fine, Crazy Blazy." He ruffled her hair and pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back squeezing her eyes shut in the effort. He said bye to Susan and to McGee. Then he boarded the train.

Blaise ran beside his window waving to him until she reached the end of the platform and couldn't run any further. It felt like a big chunk of her left with him. It'd be another three years before she truly got that chunk back.

A warm hand pressed on her shoulder. McGee smiled down at her. "How 'bout I treat you to some ice-cream?" Blaise smiled.

"It's okay, McGee. I can go home now. Mama's by herself. I want to stay with her before I go to the island again." Gwenyth nodded biting her lip. They turned and headed out the gate with the other families. 

"Sounds like Big Girl Blaise is taking charge," Gwenyth mused keeping her arm around Blaise's shoulders. Blaise nodded quietly. 

They reached Creer Upon Libby just a few hours before lunch. Gwenyth turned to Blaise. Their houses seemed so quiet with Papa back at Durmstang and Cedric in Hogwarts.

"Are you sure about that ice-cream? Why don't you ask your mama to join us? It'll be my treat." Blaise broke into a full grin. First one since they left the station.

"Okay! I'll ask her right now!" Gwenyth laughed at the girl's sudden enthusiasm. 

"Good then! Call me when you're ready. I'll be in the orchard." Blaise watched Gwenyth head for their backyard. She then spun on her heel and ran to her front door. She reached for the door chime when something shattered inside.

"Mama?" Blaise called through the door. She peeked through the window on the side. "Yulee? It's me, Blaise." She tapped lightly on the door.

Just then, she heard someone scream. Blaise pressed her face against the window and squinted inside. What she saw had imprinted itself forever in her brain.

Vanessa thrashed on the floor, screaming in agony as a man Blaise didn't recognize stood over her pointing Mama's wand at her chest. He said something under his breath making Vanessa scream louder. Across the room, Yulee and several other elves lay on the floor bloody and unconscious. Hopefully just unconscious.

Blaise reacted on instinct. She slammed herself against the door. "MAMA!" She screamed kicking at the panel. "LEAVE MY MAMA ALONE!" She beat her fists against the door until she felt splinters dig into her skin. Inside, she heard her mum's screaming stop. The swung open and the man grabbed at Blaise's collar and threw the child roughly against the wall. 

"NO!" Vanessa gasped stretching her hand across the floor. "Leave her alone, _frère. Please, don't touch her. DON'T HURT HER!" She cried as the man pulled Blaise to her feet._

The man smiled at Blaise, but for the first time, she didn't return this stranger's smile back. She tried to pull away from him, but he locked her against the wall, wrapping his large hand around her neck.

"This is your girl, Vanessa? It's a miracle." He sneered. "_Une__ belette, no? Funny she looks nothing like you. Still, you were quite pretty this young, I remember." The man eyed Blaise as his wand dragged down her shirt. Vanessa staggered quickly to her feet._

"DON'T YOU DARE!" She snarled jumping on his back. He released Blaise leaving the girl to choke for her breath. Vanessa dug one of her fingers into the man's eyes. "RUN, BLAISE!"

Suddenly the door from the kitchen burst open. Gwenyth stood there wand in hand. "Vanessa?! Blaise?!" Her eyes widened. Blaise ran to the woman. "Go to my house. Barricade the doors. Call for the Aurors. Quickly!"

The man cackled as Gwenyth stepped toward him. He held Vanessa again at wandpoint. Blaise ran for the backdoor in the kitchen. 

"_Vincula__ conjicere!" The man hissed. The doors wouldn't budge. Quickly, Blaise crawled on the kitchen counter as she heard Gwenyth address their intruder._

"What are you doing here? You know the Aurors are hot on your trail. You have no chances of escaping," she said as Vanessa whimpered on the floor. Blaise pulled at the window. It wouldn't move an inch. Holding back tears, she cast her eyes around the room searching for a way out. A way for help to come. _Papa, hear me_. She pleaded inside. _Papa, come home_. 

"Out of my way, witch. I have no business with you-"

"You have no business with my neighbor either!"

The man laughed sending chills down Blaise's spine. She crawled to Yulee and shook her. The elf didn't wake. Blaise bit back her tears as her eyes went to the oven pyre. The chimney led to the roof …

"I see you haven't been forth-coming with your friends, Vanessa," he drawled. Vanessa sobbed against the power of his wand. It made Blaise cover her ears and rock on her heels.

"Stop it!" Gwenyth snarled. "Expella-"

"_Stupefy!" Gwenyth's body flew through the kitchen doors. She slammed into the counters and fell to the floor, unconscious. Vanessa sobbed in the other room._

"No more, Antonin! NO MORE! I'll come with you! Just leave my house. Leave my family alone!" Blaise grabbed Gwenyth's wand. She wouldn't let that happen. Her mama was staying _here._

"I knew you'd see it my way," the man sneered. "But don't look so sad, _mon__ petite. I'll take that girl of yours as well. Just like old times, eh?" _

Vanessa clawed weakly at his face as he shoved her back to the ground. He sauntered into the kitchen kicking aside Gwenyth. He gritted his teeth as he narrowed his eyes across the room. He saw the door to the broom closet creaked slightly open. He yanked it hungrily as Vanessa crawled quietly into her office. 

"Oh _mon__ petite," the man whispered hoarsely. "Uncle Antonin is here. Do not be afraid. I'm going to take you and your mum with me. She owes me a favor, that's all." He leaned forward into the closet. _

Suddenly, the oven door kicked open. He spun around as Blaise aimed the wand. "_Scourgify!" She cried one of the basic spells she knew. Antonin howled as his eyes filled with soapy bubbles. Blaise pushed herself out of the oven and ran into her mum's office. Vanessa already slumped over the desk. _

"_Merde__! He cut off the lines!" She threw the phone across the room. She kissed Blaise feverishly on the forehead. "I hoped you'd get out before he locked us in."_

"Mama, who is that man?"

Vanessa didn't answer. As Antonin struck her with a curse that made the woman scream and jerk beside Blaise. 

"Trying to call the Aurors, are you?!" Vanessa screamed louder.

"BUGGER OFF!" Blaise hurled a paperweight at the man. It struck him on the forehead. He keeled over, dropping the wand. In a second, Blaise jumped and grabbed it.

"No! Don't go near him!" Vanessa gasped. 

He snatched Blaise around the waist. 

"Your girl is giving me a hard time, Vanessa. I see she lacks discipline. Shall I teach her what I taught you?" He then pulled Blaise by the hair and dragged her into the living room. Blaise kept both wands under her shirt. But the man seemed more interested in her than in the wands. He pushed Blaise to the sofa as he unbuttoned his shirt. 

"LEAVE HER ALONE! I'LL DO ANYTHING, ANTONIN! TAKE ME! DON'T! PLEASE DON'T!" Vanessa sobbed pulling herself along the floor. He kicked the office doors in her face.

Blaise didn't know what the man intended to do undressing in front of her, but the desperation in her mama's voice ignited an anger inside the girl. How dare this man come into their house and throw them around like they were garbage?! Did he not know who her father was?! Who Rhonda Zabini was?! But Blaise knew her heroes weren't with her. It was just her. 

"It hurts at first, little girl," he smiled. His breath reeked. Blaise fist tightened around the wands. She thought of the spell he used making her mum cry. She knew only mean people could cast a spell like that. She knew it was an Unforgivable. Being the granddaughter of an Auror and child of two of the most intelligent wizards in Britain had its benefits.

The man chuckled at her stance. "Think you can hex me? Do you even know what that means?" He stepped back. "Okay. One shot, little girl. Let's see what you got. Let's see you try to save the day." He had his back to the window, grinning at her. Mocking her. She never felt so much hate for anyone, for anything. The anger boiled hot inside her and it took all her self-control to hold back her tongue.

She pulled the wands from under her shirt and aimed both at his heart. His eyes widened.

"STUPEFY!"

The strength of her command and the two wands shot the man threw the window. He slammed onto the road in front of their house. The broken glass had torn at his skin. He lay still. Blaise shivered and dropped the wands.

"BLAISE!" Vanessa pushed the doors open and stumbled to her daughter's feet. She searched Blaise's face. "What did he do? Oh, please tell me nothing happened, sweetie! I'd die if he-"

"I'm okay, Mama," Blaise said quickly hugging her mum tightly. "He's out on the road. He won't hurt us anymore." Vanessa's lip trembled. 

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. I brought this to our house. I thought I could escape him-"

"Mama, is Gwen and Yulee, okay?" Vanessa nodded and took the wands in her hands. Blaise helped her hobble to Gwenyth. 

"_Ennervate," Mama said quietly. McGee fluttered her eyes open. _

"Oh my god, Van. What happened?" She glanced from Van to Blaise. "How did he get here?"

Van bit her lip and glanced awkwardly at Blaise. She revived Yulee.

"Yulee, please revive the others and take Blaise down to your quarters. Gwen and I will clean up here." Yulee nodded wide-eyed. Blaise didn't like that Mama wanted her away. She just knocked the bad man down and she has to hide under Yulee's bed still?

But she didn't argue. Though, usually she would. She followed Yulee to her chambers. 

"Stay here, Lady Blaise. Be safe here," the elf said caressing Blaise's hand. She could still hear the women talking through the vents.

"Yulee, can you make the sound from the vents a little louder?" Blaise asked. Happy to help, the elf did. And Blaise sat quietly on Yulee's bed as Gwen and Vanessa's conversation coursed through the elf's room. 

"I know this won't make any sense. But we have to give the Aurors a different version of the events that happened here." Blaise heard Mama say.

"What do you mean by that? Wait. WHY do we have to do that? Blaise and I came home from dropping off Cedric. I heard screaming, came in and saw that bloody Death-Eater standing over you and Blaise. Somehow the girl disabled him-"

"Gwen … I don't want Zon to know about this. I mean … I don't want to him worrying that the bastard got as far into the house as he did. We'll just say he came through the door. You and I were in the living room, saw him, blasted him back to the pavement. Simple. We don't have to tell them about the Unforgivables or you being stunned."

"Van, you're not making any sense. Let's take a deep breathe and be rational-"

"You and your rationale!" Mama snapped. "Have I EVER asked you of anything, dear friend? Have I ever asked you to do something of this magnitude?! Admit it, Gwenyth. This is the only favor I'm asking of you. Compared to the ones you've asked of me-"

"Please! Let's not be bitter with each other. We're on the same team." Gwenyth sighed. "What about Blaise? You can't expect her to lie along with us?"

"I-I handle it," Vanessa said uncomfortably. Blaise heard a chair drag on the floor.

"What are you … NO. Absolutely not. I forbid you to use a Memory Charm on her. Van, how could you even think of that?!"

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do with MY daughter!"

Gwenyth cursed loudly. Blaise's head ached with the venom in each woman's voice. She never thought McGee and Mama hated each other. But the animosity showed itself well today.

"Van, Memory Charms on a child that young could damage her. And no doubt you'll need a hefty charm for her to forget all of this. Too much or even too little effort could seriously affect her mind. Are you willing to take that chance? She might lose the very smarts that helped us today. And her childhood! You're willing to take away that?!"

"You mean what's left of her childhood," Mama said quietly. Then she began to cry. "I failed her. I knew I couldn't do this. I told Zon I couldn't do this-"

"Now you stop that talk, Van. I know you and I never got off on the right foot but you're going to have to listen to me. I'll do this favor you ask me. But you have to hold yourself together, woman. Our baby girl needs you to be strong. That's the only way she's going to get through this ordeal. Now go to her. I'm going to contact the Aurors at my house. Tell them we found their escaped convict."

Blaise pretended to sleep as Vanessa kneeled next to the bed. She felt her Mama brush the hair away from her face, button up her shirt, dab ointment on the bruises. Blaise didn't know why she pretended to sleep. Maybe she didn't want Mama to cry and feel sorry for herself. Maybe she didn't want Mama asking her to lie to Papa. 

The sounds in the room told her of Yulee fussing in the background, McGee's kiss on her forehead, Mama's cold hand around hers. Still, she felt very alone. Blaise could still see the man in her mind, standing over her, mocking her, challenging her. That white-hot anger churned deeply in her chest. And she hated that she had to suffer what she did. Where was her Papa? Why couldn't Mama and McGee fight harder?

Blaise woke the next morning to find Mama sitting at the kitchen table. She had dark circles under her eyes. A full ashtray and a half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey were in front of her. Until yesterday, Blaise never thought Mama drank or smoked. Van smiled weakly at her and patted the chair next to her.

"Blaise, I have to ask you something. Papa's coming, you know. H-He can't stay long but he's worried, you know. He wants to make sure we're all right. And …" Van looked away. Blaise reached out and squeezed her hand.

"It's okay, Mama. I know what I'm supposed to say. I heard you talking to McGee. You don't have to say it." Vanessa's lip trembled.

"But I do. I'm making you lie to your Papa. That's just wrong."

"But you don't want him to be sad. So that's good. I don't want him to be sad either."

"But … what about you? Are you sad, sweetie?" Mama whispered. Her hand shook as she lifted a cigarette to her lips. 

"I'm sad when you're sad, Mama," she said. She pulled the bottle away from her. "Please don't drink and smoke. I don't want you to die."

Vanessa smashed the cigarette into the ashtray and pulled Blaise to her. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry this ever happened. I wish I could take it all away." Blaise held back her tears. She never heard Mama this upset before. And it killed her knowing she could do nothing to make the woman feel better. She wished it never happened too. 

And that gave her a plan. On her next birthday, she'll make that wish. She'll make sure all the candles go out. Neville said that would make the wish come true. Yeah, that's what she'll wish. She'd wish that every year until it comes true. It doesn't matter what she got anymore. She only wanted that wish. 

She wanted Mama to stop crying. She wanted Papa to quit his job at Durmstang. And most of all, she wished that sick man was never born.  

Vanessa kissed her forehead. "Now you go freshen up before Papa comes home." Blaise nodded and headed for the stairs. "And Blaise …" She turned. "Mama loves you, sweetie." 

"I love you too, Mama." 

Chain of Letters

Dear Blaze,

   Hey! Like the new nickname I'm giving you? Professor Sinistra teaches Astronomy and I saw Venus through the telescope. The professor also showed us a side of the sun. It was cool. I saw rays coming of out of the sun's surface. Like strings of blazing hair. Reminded me of you. 

   I'm really glad you didn't get hurt when that Death-Eater escaped Azkaban. I can't believe he went all the way to Creer Upon Libby! Dad suspects his escape was an inside job. He said a lot of You-Know-Who supporters are still out there, even actively in the Ministry. Dad got so mad when he found out that Fudge won't have the man put to death. I'm mad too. I mean, he tried to attack you and our mums. But still, it is a man's life we're talking about.

   School's great. My favorite subjects so far are Herbology and Charms. Transfiguration is cool, but real tricky. But I think you'll get the hang of it right away. I got sorted into Hufflepuff! I heard the house is popular for producing the best Mediwizards. I think it's because everyone in Hufflepuff's got that bedside manner down. Our nurse Madame Pomfrey was in Hufflepuff. 

   Anyway, I'm glad Rusty and Gran are teaching you magic. All of Hogwarts knows about that Death-Eater incident. I'm so proud you didn't get scared. It wouldn't hurt to train in Defense now. And that pouch of beads you said your dad gave you sounds wicked! I have to see that when I go home on Winter Holiday. Did he say there were Dungbombs in there too? That's cool he taught you how to orb. I can't learn Apparation until 6th year. But that's wicked you can orb. I asked Professor Flitwick about it and he said not a lot of wizards can do it. It has to be inborn or something. What do you know? You're special! Ha!

   Well, I have to end my letter here for now. I'm going to watch the first Quidditch match. Ravenclaw against Slytherin. Nasty lot that Slytherin. Even their House Head is creepy-looking. Well, take care of yourself, Blaze. Keep learning those spells! See you soon!

Love, Cedric

Hey, Cedric!

   Blaze sounds cool. Makes spelling easier. Lessons are going well. Rusty hurt himself though, acting out the war of Belgar the Troll and Damaso the Monk. But Oma got his hip back in place right away. He's teaching me how to shield myself now. Good thing he doesn't have to stand for that. He may look young but Rusty's older than dirt. That's what Oma said.

   Some beads DO turn into Dungbombs! Papa said Padre gave the pouch first to Oma. And she added all sorts of stuff to it. Then she gave it to Papa. And Papa added a whole bunch of cool stuff. Now he gave it to me. He wants me to pass it down my genderations. I wonder what I can include. Oma said she transfigured a raft and an ostrich feather into some beads just for fun. Papa won't admit to me that he added the Dungbombs. I think he's trying to blame Padre just to save his arse.

   The lessons are wicked. I feel like a real wizard now. Or like Indiana Jones? He's in a muggle movie. He's like a treasure hunter for Gringotts. Only there's no goblins. I wanna be like him. Wear a hat and carry a whip. Anyway, I saw that movie at my friend, Dorothy's sleepover party. I couldn't sleep over though. Just great. She's the one muggle who's nice to me and now she thinks I'm a baby because I couldn't sleep over her house. Well, if she starts calling me a freak too, I'll just tell her to bugger off.

   But muggle school isn't that bad. The lessons bore me a little. Mr. Barthelman assigned me some advanced homework. He says it's 6th grade level. Now the whole class calls me teacher's pet. I don't ruddy care anymore. At least, I can say I'm smarter than all of them and have proof for it.    

   Living in the castle's great, but I want to go back to Creer Upon Libby. I don't like leaving Mama all week. She visits with Papa on the weekend, but I'd feel much better if I saw her everyday. I asked McGee to watch Mama for me. She is. Tell her again I said thanks. She loves those raspberry truffles Gobie makes, so I send her a fresh batch every week. I don't think it's enough though. But Oma's owl's getting grumpy with all the work. 

   Oma's calling me now. She's going to show me some hexes. I don't think Papa wanted her to do that but I can't wait! Tell me some you wanna learn. Maybe Oma'll teach me them. Hehehe. Can't wait to use them on Hannah Dung-head Abbot. She came over with Neville last weekend. Can you believe she wanted to tattle on Oma for teaching me magic?! She only stopped when I said I'd turn her pigtails into slugs. Not that I could. But now I have to learn that curse, so I won't look like a liar. Hey, it's my duty as an honest witch. Hee hee.

   Well, have fun in Hogwarts. Tell me everything. Can't wait to see you again. Oma sends her love. Miss you, bogey-eater.

Blaze ^_^   

Blaze frowned as she reread her letter to Cedric. Everything she wrote had some truth to it. But Blaise knew her true feelings weren't expressed in it. She really wanted to tell Cedric this: 

   _Hey, Cedric.__ I'm worried about my Mama. She looks sick and she's always drinking. I want to tell Oma what happened when the man went to our house but I promised Mama that I wouldn't. I can't tell Papa either. And I can't tell you. I don't like keeping secrets from you. I'm trying not to be scared. But at night, I can't sleep. I have bad dreams. I get really mad about it. I fight with the kids at school. It's mostly the boys I fight with. Yesterday, I punched two in the eye and I made another one's nose bleed. The principal doesn't like me much. I think all the girls are just scared of me. I don't really care. I'm a witch, not a muggle. That makes me tougher than all of them._

Blaise repeated those last words to herself. She was tough. She'd beat this. Just like Indiana Jones, she'd rise and be the hero. She'd save Mama. She'll learn everything Oma can teach her. She'll be the best. And she'll keep her family safe.

"All I can do is fight back," she said quietly as she watched Oma's owl carry her 'perky' letter to Cedric. She said those words knowing someone else told her this. She couldn't remember who said it though. 

But those words stuck with her. She never let them go. Those words became Blaise Zabini's life.

*********** 

Next chapters will have her in Hogwarts. Thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing. ~Nengski


	4. Seeing Red

Sorry my updates are taking so long. But I don't have a beta-reader and that slows me down. That and I'm working overtime. Yuck. Anyway, thanks for reading and thanks for reviewing.

Chapter Three: Seeing Red 

Good Riddance, St. Bridget's

St. Bridget's Academy's faculty consisted of tight, French-braided, ruler-slapping nuns to liberal, cheesy, borderline-perverted instructors. The nuns taught the younger year's kindergarten to 5th grade, while the instructors taught grades 6th to 12th. The campus had a cathedral, a small chapel for the elementary, two outdoor basketball courts, two gymnasiums, three mezzanines, and three buildings for each stage of education. 

The elementary division had the largest building, due to the kindergarteners and 5th graders. It stretched through the whole length of the campus and had two floors. Green limestone made up its exterior while blue linoleum and white walls filled the interior. It had to be the cleanest elementary school in the whole world. Mostly because the Head Dean, Mrs. Markobrad, and the janitor, Mr. Owens had obsessive-compulsive disorders and phobia for germs. They crucified slobs.  

The high school had the second largest building. It was made of bricks painted in lavender with steel windows and doors. Salmon-colored carpet lined the halls while the classroom had wooden floors that the students had to sweep and wax every Monday morning before class. The lockers were painted a foul beige, giving one the feeling that they were walking down the tongue of a whale with serious tartar control issues. There were four floors for each year. Each year had two batches: the intellectually gifted and the dumb but financially adequate.

The 'smallest' building contained the middle school, grades 6th to 8th. The interior designer for this building must've had a meltdown. To describe the motif of the school's halls, the designer envisioned a 'pubescent, cherubic, spring-sprite sort of feel.' To achieve the look, the floor's wooden panels had been painted a barnyard green, while the walls had black strokes of paint (supposedly representing the flow of wind) against a light apricot (read: flesh color) background. Since then, everyone called the students there _Pubes for the next three years.  _

Unfortunately, at the start of this school term, the 5th graders were assigned to the middle school building. This didn't help Blaise much. She had been looking forward to 5th grade, since that was the oldest grade in the Elementary Wing. Her classmates had stopped bullying her long ago, and the younger years feared her. Ever since the Scream Team (a name she dubbed her sluts-in-janitor's-closet bullies) moved to the Pube building two years ago, the other batches grew bored with tormenting Blaise. So she had hoped this last year would be considerably comfortable with no older students whatsoever to deal with. She should've known that was too good to be true, especially when the Principal/Prefect of Discipline, Mr. Clement, hated her guts.

"Leave me the hell alone!"

Blaise pushed away the hand of 8th grader, Danielle. It was the last day of school. They dismissed the students by year. Blaise hoped she'd get a head start. But the 8th graders caught up with her quickly. With summer break already before them and high school life just a few months away, the group chased down their favorite outcasts with an extra bounce in their step. Once again, they amused themselves at Blaise's expense.

"It's the last day of school, Zabini. Come now. Show some school spirit!" Danielle sneered pulling Blaise's hair at the root. Two other girls held her hands behind her back. 

Her pulse raced but Blaise said calmly, "What if I just showed you what happened last time you laid your pudgy finger on me?" 

A collective shudder went through the group. Last time, Blaise smashed a vial of Slug Pus on the girl's forehead. Danielle suffered a week having snails pop out of her boils.

"You stupid witch!" Danielle hissed. "You know what they used to do to witches, Zabini? They burned them at stake."

"You're kidding." Blaise rolled her eyes. "Do you mind, Danielle? Your penis breath's quite off-putting."

The girl slammed Blaise against the wall. "You think you're brave talking like that? You think you're so smart with your advanced classes and fancy words. You're nothing without your stupid witchcraft."

That was slightly true. Two weeks ago, Mr. Clement confiscated Blaise's belt of magical beads. That left her at the mercy of these gargoyles. But Danielle didn't know that Blaise had just broken into the principal's office and retrieved her arsenal. That's the main reason why the group caught up with her.  

Blaise didn't utter a word, lest they discover the beads. Instead, she steadied her gaze on Danielle. This unnerved the girl, compelling her to bark at one of the boys in the group. He came and promptly punched Blaise in the stomach. She keeled over, biting down her lip to keep from crying aloud.

Danielle chuckled, grinding her teeth. She jerked her thumb at Blaise's crumpled form. "Wait're ya'll waiting for?!"

The group grabbed Blaise's arms and legs while someone placed a bag over her head. They dragged her across the school grounds and past the basketball court. Blaise tried to reach for her beads tucked under her belt but they tied her hands together. 

People pelted her with their books, while some kicked her as she writhed on the ground. But she refused to say anything. Her silence agitated them, and half the time, their kicks and punches felt weak or simply grazed her. Then Danielle commanded them to stop. They dragged Blaise again across the concrete, letting tiny rocks dig into her skin. More pulling, scratching, yanking ensued. Suddenly, the bag on her head lifted. They had tied Blaise to the flagpole. The sun smarted on her skin. Danielle slapped Blaise on the face.

"That's for ruining my complexion for a week!" Danielle hissed. "I missed out on the bloody prom for that!"

Blaise narrowed her eyes. "Like you'd _dance_ at one. I see you only making it to the parking lot, skanky arse, cock-sucker."

Danielle slapped her again. Blaise spat out some blood. One of the girls behind Danielle fidgeted.

"So witch's _do bleed?" Danielle laughed. The girl tugged at Danielle's sleeve._

"Let's go. The janitor or someone might-"

"I don't bloody care! We're on vacation already. There's nothing they can do to us." She eyed Blaise. "You're awfully quiet, Zabini. What do you have to say for yourself? Let's see your witchcraft get you out of this."

"If I were you, pray that never happens," Blaise mumbled under her breath. Danielle swerved back and struck her again. Blaise's eyes flashed. "Do that one more time, Danielle!"

"Or you'll what?" Danielle sneered. She stood over her, challenging her, mocking her. Something in Blaise snapped.

Ignoring the pain, she wrenched one hand from the binds and clamped it around Danielle's neck. Both girls wrestled on the ground as the others crowded around them.

"Get off her, Zabini!" Someone yelled, but Blaise grabbed Danielle by the hair and shoved the girl's face into the concrete. She straddled the 8th grader and pelted her with punches.

"Make her stop!" Danielle wailed. No one approached as Blaise's fists struck faster and harder on Danielle's head and chest.  

Finally, some high school seniors happened on the brawl. It took five seniors to hold Blaise back. Danielle staggered to her feet and, to most of her friends' surprise, leered once again at Blaise. One senior pushed Danielle away.

"That's enough, Danielle. It's summer break. Give it a rest," he said. Several boys still held Blaise back.  

"You're lucky you're leaving this school, Zabini!" Danielle spat on the ground. Both her eyes had swelled like a tomato. 

"This's Zabini?" One of boys smirked. The teens eyed Blaise curiously. Their chivalry quickly faded knowing they had the school misfit in their grasp. But Blaise had had enough. 

"I'm done with all of you half-witted muggles," she snarled wiping off her bloody spittle from her chin. She plucked out a few beads from the pouch and dropped them down each boy's pants. She flung another one down Danielle's shirt. Then she snapped her fingers, turning the beads into Watusi firecrackers. 

She walked away amongst their screams. 

Depeche Mode and Sex Pistols

Blaise quickened her pace and rounded a corner. She crawled behind a dumpster beside the library. She winced as she lifted her shirt and prodded at the bruise on her stomach. The bruise had turned a yellowish brown with violet spots. She rested her head against the wall sucking the blood from her busted lip. 

"Blaise," someone whispered ten minutes later. She opened an eye and patted the spot next to her. A lanky Asian girl crawled beside her. The girl groaned painfully as she leaned beside Blaise. She cocked an eyebrow at the blonde. "I see they got you too."

Blaise snorted. "They shoved you in the locker again?" The girl nodded.

"Worse. It was the boys' locker room. But that soccer captain, Spencer, found me. He thought it was funny. Flashed his donger at me before I got out of there. Like I would be impressed. I've seen cigarettes bigger than his." She sighed and pulled out a walkman from her backpack. "Goddamn that Junko! I told her we only have a half day today. But she taking her time as usual. Probably snogging that boyfriend of hers senseless as we speak."

"Junko's always fashionably late," Blaise mused. "She'll come, Hong. Glassy-eyed and frothing at the mouth."       

Blaise began plucking the gravel from under her skin. Grimacing, Hong pulled out a box and took a gauzy patch from it. "Here, stick this on your stomach. My grandparents use this on their joints." One whiff of the gauze made Blaise gag. 

"Hong! What's that smell? Essence of crusty old fart?" Hong ignored her and stuck the gauze on Blaise's bruise. Immediately, Blaise felt a cooling sensation on her skin. "What is this? It smells awful but it feels good."

"Salonpas, I think. It's like Ben-Gay."

"Blimey, Nguyen, you gave me some kind of muggle concoction?!" 

"Hey it may be mugglemade, but that's Asian, sister. Gotta represent."

Blaise chuckled sorely. She eyed the walkman on Hong's lap. "What're you listening to now?"

"One of Junko's old tapes." She handed Blaise one of the earphones. "Least'll kill time until sister dear finally gets here."

Both girls relaxed, swaying to the music of Depeche Mode. Hong leaned back and lit a roll of weed. Blaise groaned at her.

"Bummed it from Junko's stash." Hong shrugged. Blaise shook her head. Hong sighed staring dreamily at a picture of the band's singer in the magazine. "You sing it, Martin," she cooed. Blaise snorted.

"Martin Gore's way too old for you, Hong." 

"So? He's bloody cute!" She squeezed the magazine against her chest. "I'm going to marry him!" Blaise rolled her eyes and pulled off the earphone. 

"You can take the girl out of the church but you can't take the church of the girl," she mumbled. "How can you even think of boys in a romantic fashion? Name one bloke in this god-awful school that hasn't offended you in some grotesque way."

"Blaise, We shouldn't write off the whole gender based on the sods we've met here. Haven't you ever fancied kissing a boy?"

Blaise snorted, "Oh, _sure. I always fancy kissing one two seconds before he punches me in the face. Yeah, that whole aggression thing's a turn on."_

Hong took a long drag and offered Blaise a puff. She declined. 

"You know, Blaise, I saw Brian Jaworski looking at you funny when Mr. Franklin dismissed us. I bet he was going to invite you to his pool party this weekend." Blaise scoffed.

"He looks at everyone funny, Hong. He's got a lazy eye." 

"How 'bout Paul Medina? He's never teased you."

"Yes, he just calls me Satan's spawn."

"Anthony Fraques? He's got-"

"Big lips, big teeth. Smelly feet."

"What about Josh Stanford? He's cute, funny, dresses nice …"

"And takes tap-dancing lessons. Hello?!"

"Jesus, Blaise! I think you're just purposely finding faults. Okay, so you have reason for your suspicion. But you're bordering on paranoid." 

"I'm not, Hong. How many times must I say that I'm not into boys?"

"Don't tell me it's girls?"

"No, silly. None of the boys in St. Bridget's are worthy-"

"AHA! _In St. Bridget's. So you __have found someone that tickles your fancy!"_

"Tickles my fancy? You're dialog's killing me."

"Don't change the subject, Zabini. I see the way you're listening to Martin. One of his song's got to you, hasn't it? I know! It's _Somebody_, innit?" She smirked at Blaise's flustered expression. "I knew it! Who's your secret crush?"

Blaise leaned back on the brick wall behind them. "I just like the song, alright? I like the part where he goes, _though things like this make me sick, in a case like this, I'll get away with it_." Hong shook her head.

"You make no sense."

"I know." Blaise rubbed her forehead. She may scoff at Hong's boy fascination, but Blaise did find it depressing that she hasn't crossed that line herself. Maybe there's something wrong with her. Girls her age were already thinking about boyfriends and dating. What did she think about? _Just getting through the day_, she thought grimly. That and turning all her bullies into pond scum … and the occasional daydream of jumping off the highest tower in Villa Monteverde. _Damn, do I have issues_, she snorted to herself.

"Finally!" Hong sighed glancing at the parking lot. Her sister Junko arrived. "Hey, we're going to our boutique in the mainland today. _Grand opening_." Hong rolled her eyes. "Wanna come? Mind you, we're flooing there."

Hong Nguyen was Blaise's only friend through the years at the academy. The girls bonded when Hong revealed that her family were all Squibs. Hong, herself, had no magical abilities. But her baby brother did. 

"Sure. Why not? I'm in no rush to get home," Blaise sighed. 

Oma had grown antsy as the end of Blaise's term drew closer. She spent most of her days conferencing over the pyre and sending Rusty off on secret errands. Blaise didn't mind, because it gave her the freedom to go and leave as she pleased. She had learned everything they could teach her. And what they wouldn't teach her she taught herself. All she needed was a wand to practice all the theories. For now, she did what she could with the Travlas Orbs and trusty pouch of magical beads Papa gave her. 

The two girls masked their limps with an unnatural strut as they approached Junko's VW bug. Hong loved to complain about her older sister, but Blaise knew the girl secretly idolized the rebellious girl. 

"You're late, Junko!" Hong pouted as Blaise scooted into the backseat. Junko rolled her eyes. She was 18 years old with a green Mohawk and pierced lip.

"I'm here, aren't I? Be grateful for that, shrimp. Got sidetracked. But you know I'd come even if I have to floo this damn contraption to Bolivia." Where Hong's family lacked in spell-casting, they made up for in potion making. They already owned several Apothecaries, even along the legendary Filibuster Strip, a teen wizard's Neverland. Blaise had never been there. Junko kept shop there.

The Nguyen's had added to their Potion empire with a new boutique in London. It was just outside the entrance to Diagon Alley. They chose to share their aroma therapeutic skills to the consuming muggle public. That and the edible lingerie Junko concocted. 

"You two look like shit," Junko mused. She pulled two vials from her glove compartment. "That should heal the scratches up. Bet you're glad to be leaving that shit hole, eh? No more bullies." Hong cursed under her breath.

"How did you know?" Junko rustled her sister's hair as Blaise gulped the vial down quickly, lest Oma sees her and unleashes Napalm on St. Bridget's.

"Been there, little sister." The girls rode to the Nguyen's home in Newport, singing along to the Sex Pistols. Blaise flooed with them to the boutique on the mainland. 

At the boutique, Blaise hid herself away in the alley behind the store as Hong and her family entertained the new clientele. 

Blaise pulled out her stash of knapweed and jasmine. She sprinkled a bit of the mixture into a ceramic bowl and burned the herbs. Blaise closed her eyes and took in the scent, letting it soothe her. 

And as the Hood's chatted up a storm, playing the perfect host, Blaise curled up into a ball resting her forehead on her knees. She relished quietly the fact that her tortuous years in St. Bridget's Academy had finally ended. But when she began imagining leaving Oma alone on the island again, she felt sad. 

"Hey, Blaise! What some pineapple juice? Junko spiked it with Jose Cuervo."

Blaise sighed tiredly. "No, thanks, Hong. I have to get back to the island."

They hugged, promised to write each other. Hong gave her free perfume samples and scooted back into the boutique. Blaise cupped a Travlas Orb in her hand and concentrated on her room in Oma's castle. 

As she soared back to the island, Blaise counted the days to her 11th birthday. After all the annoyances her family gave her, she still had the same wish. For her family to be whole again. For Mama to stop crying, for Papa to stay … 

A Memory That Can't Be Told

Blaise sat up from her bed, shivering in her flimsy gown. A breeze had broken through the window shutters. She shuffled her way to the window following the trail of moonlight on the wooden floor. The summer brought thousands of stars to the sky and Blaise stared at them lost in thought. She had woken, not from the chill, but from a dream. And it was more of a nightmare than a dream. 

She recalled the fleeting images in her mind. She saw a series of rails snaking in and out of tunnels and caves. Over a million locked doors loomed past, the sheer volume of them dizzying. The pungent smell of mud and stone choked her. Blasts of fire and roars of unseen beasts stuck on her skin, making the hairs on her neck stand. 

The whole time, something weighed on her shoulders. It slowly and deliberately ate at her brain. Telling her she was getting closer. Wild greed shivered down her spine. Then a cackle throbbed in her throat. A cackle filled with menace and loathing. Her familiarity of such hate startled Blaise awake. She jerked from the dream fearing if she saw any more, the thing would take complete possession of her.  

"Oma, wake up," Blaise whispered. When her grandma didn't stir, she pulled the covers. Oma reached for her wand just as Blaise lit the candle on the nightstand. 

"_Dios mio_, Blaise!" Oma gasped pulling her wand off Blaise's throat as quickly as she aimed it. "What're you doing up at this hour? Oh my … You're cold, _hija_. What happened?"

"Oma, I had a dream …" Blaise told her what she saw. Oma listened quietly, making Blaise repeat certain details. When Blaise finished, Oma pushed off the bed and paced the floor. 

"What do you think it's about, Oma?" Blaise yawned, trying to slow down her breathing. Oma eyed the girl carefully. 

Rhonda said with a weak smile. "You want to look up these meanings, don't you? The references are in my study."

Blaise sighed and dragged herself to the door. "Let me guess. You're going to make a pyre call the moment I step out of this room, aren't you?"

"I'm going to call your Padre if you must know," Oma replied slowly. She embraced Blaise, kissing her lightly on the forehead. "You had a bad dream, _hija. I think it's from stress. You're leaving the island … you're starting wizarding school! It's all that pent up excitement. Enjoy these changes. You're heading down a new road," Oma sighed brushing the hair from Blaise's eyes. "Now get some sleep. You have a long trip tomorrow."_

Back in her quarters, Blaise checked her luggage again. She glanced around the room. This tower of Villa Monteverde had been her haven for the past several years. Her haven from St. Bridget's, a haven from her nearing puberty, and a haven from Creer Upon Libby.  

Returning to her home hasn't been pleasant for several summers now. Tension grew between her parents. Her dad never completely believed the story Mama and McGee told him. But when he asked Blaise, she didn't have the guts to tell him the truth. She had a hard time coming to terms with it herself. Blaise had pushed the events in the back of her mind. If she didn't talk about it, she didn't have to think about it. 

But the place she once called home no longer had that comfy feeling to it. The house weighed heavy on her. Too many secrets lay inside its walls. She had grown apart from her mum. Vanessa worked longer hours, even skipped the weekends she should've visited Blaise on the island. And whenever Blaise did see her mum, the woman avoided the girl's eyes. It seemed that Van had surrendered to whatever demons she had in her head. 

Her father's actions weren't helpful either. What's so bloody special about the people in Durmstang? His loyalty to the blasted school only fueled Vanessa's jealousy. They'd argue over dinner, trying to rephrase their words, keeping their tone neutral, but Blaise knew. She found the whole charade insulting.  

But if Van could coach Blaise to lie to the family, then Van wouldn't hesitate to lie to her own daughter either. Blaise wished she could say something to them. Give them a piece of her mind. But this family didn't encourage that.

But … if her parents come clean, that meant she'd had to as well. And Blaise spent years pushing the memory out of her mind. Why bring it back? She had enough on her plate dealing with puberty. 

Things would be easier to handle if she could TALK to someone about it. But Blaise didn't trust what McGee's or Oma's responses would be. She didn't want to bring anymore tension than there already was. What if they veered their anger on Vanessa, her dad, or even on herself? Blaise could talk to Padre. But … The last thing Blaise wanted was another person to feel sorry for her. Vanessa did. And look where it got her. Besides, involving Padre would humiliate her father.    

Ugh. Whether she's containing Vanessa's self-pity or protecting her father's self-esteem, it's always at the expense of her own sanity. Blaise felt like she was raising them. _They_ should be taking care of _her. Not shipping her off to an island with a war-mongering elf and stir-crazy witch, while they wallowed in their thirty-something angst. Well, Blaise had enough losing sleep over their actions. _

The nearing reality of wizarding school placed everything back into perspective. Once Blaise's on her way, she'd stop sweating it. Leave them to figure out their problems, while she focused on herself. She'd be with people like her. She'd have a place where she belonged. And she could finally reclaim what was stolen from her. A normal childhood.

The next morning, Blaise waited for Rusty to finish his breakfast. The elf would accompany Blaise back to the mainland. Oma had been busy all morning. Her call to Padre sparked the activity. He always did. Now the whole castle seemed to have lit overnight. Oma was in full Auror-mode, making orders, referring to various maps strewn across the wall of her study, ever swishing her magical staff. Her actions seemed more purposeful. Blaise wondered what Padre said to her this time.  

She watched this all perched on the stone hedge with her back to the sea. She reflected on the reasons that brought her to this island. Her parents said that Oma needed Blaise there. Rhonda Zabini was the kind of person who needed an outlet for her energy. The island life was beautiful but quite uneventful. Blaise's eagerness to learn magic had helped Rhonda focus.

A soft breeze lifted Blaise's hair. The style was shorter than she liked. Several months ago, the kids at the academy held her down and chopped off her ponytail. She was still shaken from that event. But her hair recovered, growing past her ears, falling between her chin and shoulders, still a soft and shimmering blond. Her bangs fell over half her face, leaving one eye to peek up at people. 

She may have hated school life but the Isle of Wight itself became Blaise's love. Every weekend, she'd climb down to the beaches golden sands and surf or wade in the salt water. Her honey tan deepened, giving her a perennial bronze glow. Her limbs stretched longer and leaner. Her sporty lifestyle kept her chest flat. At first glance, she looked like a lanky boy with long hair … ready to dive into a mosh pit. 

Blaise wore a strapless sundress for the occasion. That would please Vanessa. She checked the time on her pocket watch. They were ten minutes late for their departure, but Blaise was in no hurry. She stretched along the hedge and listened to the waves of the sea below. She wondered if she could still come to the island on her summer breaks. She missed the castle already.

"Blaise!" Oma called from the patio. "The carriage's out in front! Rusty's got your luggage packed! Let's go! Don't want your folks to worry now!"

"Yes, Oma!" Blaise sighed. She mumbled under her breath, "My parents? Worry? What an understatement." In another 15 minutes with no Blaise, Van would send the Calvary to Villa Monteverde. 

Rusty held the door open to the carriage as Blaise dragged her feet behind Oma. She only looked up when she felt her grandma's hand on her cheek.

"I wish you the best, my child," Oma said beaming down at Blaise. "I want to thank you for staying with me on this island. You have made my life here … a joy. You are a joy. Have fun in wizarding school, _hija."_

Blaise embraced her tightly. "Bye, Oma. I'll see you soon."

"Yes!" Oma laughed. "In _Disyembre_, I'll be visiting you for a change." She kissed Blaise on the forehead. "Say hello to everyone for me."

Rusty activated the Invisibility Shield and steered the unseen beast at the helm. Blaise watched the castle grow smaller as the carriage ascended higher into the sky. She pressed her forehead on the window, closing her eyes, not really knowing how she should feel. Instead, she imagined herself walking along the stone hedge fence as the blue-green waters sloshed on the golden sands below.

Blaise Zabini, 4th Floor, 7 Sparrow's Circle, Creer Upon Libby

Hours later, Rusty rapped on the carriage's roof. "You're almost home, Lady Blaise! Have a look!"

Blaise rubbed her eyes and pulled back the drapes. She saw her manor loomed before them standing over five floors with Willows towering around it. Ecru bricks glistened in the soft sunlight. A faint scent of jasmine rose sweetly up to her. Everything looked the way she remembered. She didn't like that.

The carriage broke through the clouds, descending low enough to rustle the treetops. Rusty deactivated the Invisibility Shield. 

"Oy!" A voice called from the carriage window. Blaise jumped in her seat. She grinned at the blond head bobbing beside her window.

"Cedric!" Blaise reached out wrapping her arms around his neck briefly. "What're you doing up here?"

"Playing Quidditch," he said. "Your carriage sorta just popped in our way."

"Oh sorry. But were you winning?" 

"Of course!" He laughed as Fred or George, whichever, zoomed by blowing a raspberry in his direction. "Come to the field as soon as you can. I'll introduce you to my friends. We're all trying out our new brooms."

Her eyes darted to Cedric's blue house. She saw McGee waving up at her. Blaise waved back.

"I am home," she said watching Cedric loop circles in the distance.

"Twenty minutes late!" Van sighed. Her hair stuck out in several directions, but her smile seemed genuine as she wrapped her arms around Blaise. She patted Blaise's hair. She stopped herself before she did her usual throat, eye, mouth inspection. Instead, she took a step back and took in her daughter's appearance.

"You look good, sweetie. You're taking care of yourself well."

"Uh, thanks, Ma." Blaise blushed. Van beckoned to Rusty who struggled with Blaise's luggage. 

"Susan called this morning. She wants to come over the moment you're back. You should call her. I'll take your luggage to your room."

"Okay," Blaise grinned. She hugged Vanessa again. "It's good to see you again, Ma."

Van smiled, nodding wordlessly. She looked pale as usual, slightly gaunt. But her breath didn't reek of vodka and her posture seemed balanced. Blaise remembered Van mentioned the Ministry cut her hours in court, giving her more time to work at home. Maybe this helped Van keep her issues at bay. But this could go the other way too quickly. Blaise sighed and retreated into her father's office. She threw a pinch of powder into the pyre.

"Susan Bones!" Blaise sang kneeling into the pyre. "Get your arse over here!"

A squeal replied. And with a sudden blast of flame, Blaise fell backwards as a mop of red hair jumped on her.

"Blaise! Bloody hell, you look great!" Susan gasped pulling Blaise to her feet. "You look like your fourteen! Well, a fourteen-year-old boy, I guess. Shame your bubbies are flat."

"Woman, _you_ have no shame," Blaise snorted. She pulled Susan with her to the backyard. "Cedric's playing Quidditch with the Weasley's. Let's watch."

They got on the field just as Cedric flung the Quaffle towards the goalkeeper. The boy caught it effortlessly as Cedric groaned. Blaise whistled. Soon, all the boys descended upon them. Both girls' eyes rounded. They were just expecting the Weasley twins. They got an eyeful.

"You ladies know Fred and George," Cedric said jerking his hand to the boys. Blaise finally determined that Fred had more freckles than George did. "These blokes are my mates at Hogwarts." Three boys stood before them. "This's Roger Davies. He's in Ravenclaw." Roger was about Cedric's height with brown hair and grey eyes. He looked Fred and George's age. 

The 2nd boy with reddish blond hair and light blue eyes cleared his throat and extended his hand to Blaise with a toothy grin. "I'm Shawn Keating. Cedric's me housemate." He cocked his head to the 3rd boy. He had brown hair and eyes, quite tall with muscular arms. He smiled shyly at Blaise. 

Shawn said, "And this bugger here's Oliver Wood."

"Gryffindor's new Quidditch Captain!" Fred boasted slapping Oliver on the back. "Let's hope that means something this year." Oliver grinned as Susan blushed. 

"Do you two play Quidditch?" Oliver asked. "We could use an extra man on each team. Make things more interesting."

Blaise's smiled stiffened. She had never used a broom in her whole life. "Ehh …"

"We'd love to!" Susan gushed. Cedric snickered at Blaise's expression.

"It'll be easy. You'll use my other broom. Susan, you can use my father's old broom. Who's getting who?"

"We'll take the redhead!" George called. Blaise scowled. She always hated being chosen last for teams. Oliver joined the Weasley's. Blaise winked at Susan who's complexion grew redder when Oliver smiled at her. Cedric tossed the girls a broom each.

"Cedric, I have no idea what to do with this," Blaise said holding the contraption wrong side up. "I'm so gonna break myself." Roger swooped beside her.

"Don't sweat it, kid," he said breezily. "Just hook your leg over it like this. Kick on the ground and say Up. We'll guide you once you get up there."

Blaise followed his directions. She hovered slightly. Her crotch ached against the broom's shaft. _You've got to be bloody mad to ride this bugger for fun_, she thought to herself. Cedric smirked at her uneasiness.

"Don't you dare," Blaise hissed reading his expression. He laughed.

"I wasn't thinking anything!" 

"What else is new?! Play nice, Diggory!" Blaise barked, steadying herself. Shawn and Roger flanked her sides.

"You're doing fine, Hot Stuff," Shawn winked. Blaise rolled her eyes.

"This thing is biting my arse," she groaned. Cedric snickered.

"You're too close to the tip. Scoot down a bit. Get yourself centered." Blaise frowned. He looked way too amused at her discomfort. "You look ready." She shook her head. "Oy, George! Let's play!"

The only comfort Blaise had was Susan looked a little awkward on her broom as well. Blaise chose to hover beside an Oak tree. Good thing she slipped on a pair of jeans under her sundress or this would've been really ugly. She sulked by the tree's branches, planning her escape route. She'd kill Susan and Cedric for this, if she survived it. She stared avidly at the tree's thick, leafy branches. She could duck behind those and descend to the ground. 

"Blaze!" She looked up and found the Quaffle heading straight for her. 

_Crap on a leash. She had two options now. Either catch the damn thing or dodge it._

She tried to dodge it. But her broom bucked indignantly. She twisted its handle. "Down!" She hissed, kicking at the bristles. The broom stubbornly shot up letting the Quaffle slam into Blaise's chest. The impact knocked her off the broom. She found herself slung over a branch.  

"Aw, hell!" She groaned. The broom snapped at her, showing its scratched handle. Blaise rolled her eyes. "Get over yourself, ya bloody piece of bark!"

Wrong choice of words. It steered behind her and spanked her hard on the arse. Blaise yowled just as Cedric jumped on the rogue broom and wrestled it to the ground. Meanwhile, everyone rolled on the grass laughing up at her.  

"Well, that was fun," Blaise sighed, collapsing on the grass beside Susan. She yelped and lifted a buttock. "I think I have a splinter in my arse." Roger and Shawn scrambled over to her.      

"Where's it? I'm good at taking off splinters," Roger said. Shawn scowled.

"No, you should go to your mum and get that pulled out. I'll carry you."

Blaise blushed hotly as the boys pushed each other out of the way. She heard the twins snickering at the sight while Susan watched with a sense of awe. Cedric approached them dragging the rogue broom behind him.

"What's going on?" He asked just as Roger shoved Shawn lightly to the ground.

Fred piped up, "Davies and Keating are fighting over who gets to carry the damsel in distress."

"All for a splinter on the arse," George mused. Blaise scrambled to her feet as Cedric frowned at his friends.

"I just said I thought I had one. I don't really think I do," she mumbled avoiding Cedric's scowl. She turned back to the group. "You know, Quidditch's not for me, mates. I have to unpack anyway." 

"I'll help you," Susan said. Roger and Shawn looked crestfallen. The girls jogged back to the manor and hopped up the stairs to Blaise's room. Everything had already been unpacked and sorted. 

"Oh my god, Blaise!" Susan laughed. Blaise peeked from behind the drapes. The boys' game went back into session. "That was the funniest thing!"

Blaise rolled her eyes and flopped on the bed beside Susan. "Boys are stupid." They giggled. "But I have to admit … that was a little flattering."

Susan braided a bit of Blaise's blond hair. "I see you getting a lot more attention, Blaise. Oh, you wrinkle your nose now, but I see you being the first to dive into the dating pool. Especially with blokes like Roger, Shawn, and Cedric fawning over you."

"GROSS!" Blaise jumped to her feet. "NEVER CEDRIC!" Susan's eyes widened. 

"But … I just thought since you two grew up together and all … It would be very romantic, you know. Childhood sweethearts."

"SHUT UP!" Blaise gagged. "Cedric and I would never do that. That's just wrong. That's just nasty. That's just immoral."

"Why? It's not like you're his sister."

"But …" Blaise felt herself deflating. "I … I know." She wanted to cry suddenly. She always thought she and Cedric had a special connection. But Susan's words reminded her sorely that they were just neighbors. For all she knew, her supposed connection to Cedric was purely superficial. 

"Hey … are you all right? Did that broom hit you hard?"

Blaise swallowed back the lump in her throat. She was being silly. Whether he's her family or not, Cedric will always be in her life. Just like Susan. Blaise would make sure of it. "I'm fine, Susan."

"You know, Blaise … _you're_ like a sister to me."

Blaise smiled and hugged her friend. "I feel the same way," she sighed. "You know what that means …"  

"What?"

"We're never going to hook up." 

Susan responded by smothering her with a pillow.

Blaise awoke the next morning by falling off her bed. She tripped on the nightstand and bumped her head on the bedpost. When her vision cleared, she recognized her surroundings. She had been so used to waking up in her room in the island that the manor disoriented her.

She opened the window and took in the fresh scent of jasmine and lilac. She plucked a couple of flowers off the vine and tucked them behind her ear. She had a month and a half of summer ahead of her before wizarding school. Speaking of that, she received letters from Beauxbatons and Durmstang already. 

"Lady Blaise!" Yulee squeaked. Blaise grinned and scooped the elf into her arms. "Yulee is so happy to have her Blaise back again!"

"I missed you too, Yulee!" She laughed. 

"Yulee made Lady Blaise her favorite breakfast. Cheese blitzes with strawberries. Yulee cooked bacon for Lady Blaise too!"

"YUM! Okay, I'll be in the kitchen in two minutes. I just have to wash my face." Yulee bowed. Blaise searched her armoire for a towel and went into her bathroom.

She returned to her bedroom, dewy-faced and wide-awake. She pulled a shirt from her bureau when something stirred from her bed. Blaise gasped when she saw a screech owl ruffle its feathers. It rolled its delivery to the foot of her bed. She fed the bird a cracker and took the letter with her to the kitchen.

The address was written in green, shimmery ink. But what struck her odd was the way it was addressed:

**                                      Miss B. Zabini**

**                                      Foot of bed on the 4th floor **

**                                      7 Sparrow's Circle**

**                                      Creer Upon Libby**

She turned over the envelope and noticed the wax seal. She ran down the stairs tearing the letter open. Her eyes widened.

_Dear Miss Zabini,_

_   We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry … _

"Ma, I got in! I'm in!"

Despite receiving acceptance letters from Durmstang and Beauxbatons, Blaise Zabini was going to Hogwarts. 

Summer break passed by in a blur. Blaise vaguely remembered dragging her father to Diagon Alley. Maybe since Pa spent most of day chasing Blaise through the whole marketplace. Cedric joined her in her school shopping. Zon eventually gave up and waited in the Leaky Cauldron while Cedric showed Blaise around the wizard alley. Shopping went quickly. Blaise wasn't a choosy person. She kept her purchases strictly confined to the items on the list. What she wanted most was to purchase her wand. But Cedric insisted to make a whole bloody ceremony about it. Recommending that moment should be saved for last. 

But Blaise finally had her wand. Holly and dragon heart string, 10 inches. She never knew she could love a piece of stick so much. But she did. She kept it under her pillow when she slept. And during the day, she hitched it on a holster Oma sent her. She'd like to see those stupid kids at St. Bridget's mess with her now.

The Boy Who Lived

Blaise did a little pirouette once she stepped onto Platform 9 ¾. Vanessa did most of the crying while Zon tucked Blaise's luggage away in robotic movements. All around them, children scurried around while older teens jogged up to their friends. Several students had already boarded the Hogwarts Express and waved out their windows. Blaise said hello to Neville and his grandma. She couldn't find the Weasley's anywhere though. Saying good-bye to her parents didn't give Blaise a wrench in her chest that she thought she'd have. She did feel bad that Oma couldn't see her depart. 

"Be good, sweetie!" Van called. Blaise waved at her parents. McGee stood in the background watching Blaise leave with Cedric. A small tear rolled down the woman's cheek. Blaise blew all three of them a kiss. And as the train pulled away, she saw the smiles on her parents' faces. Their glow made Blaise catch her breath. She finally felt the tug on her heart. She never thought she'd see them happy again, but they were. And it was because she was … leaving. She didn't know whether to sing or wail. Instead, she bit her lip and stared at the buildings zipping past her window. 

"How are you feeling?" Cedric asked. Susan already had a cabin so they sat with her. Zephyr snoozed beside him, bloated with sunflower seeds. The naturally-bred hawk-owl crossbreed was a gift from her father. Cedric gave the bird its name. 

Blaise threw him a dazzling smile. It seemed silly of her to dampen her own spirits. "I don't know yet, Cedwick," she cooed babyishly, wrapping herself around his arm. "But I'll let you know." He ruffled her hair. 

"You'll be fine, Blazy. I know you will."

Susan had been drooling on Blaise's shoulder when Fred knocked on their cabin. Cedric yawned loudly and cracked the door open.

"Oy, Fred. Are we there yet?"

"We've got a few more hours. But did you hear? You won't believe who's on this train." 

"Who?" Cedric asked scratching at his nose. George pushed his twin into the cabin and slid the door behind them. By this time, Blaise and Susan were wide awake and leaned on the edge of their seats.

"Saw him ourselves. Helped him with his luggage. Smaller than I thought he'd be, but it's him."

"WHO?!" The girls chorused.

"Harry Potter."

Cedric and Susan gasped loudly, but Blaise wrinkled her nose. 

"Oh, you mean The Boy Who Lived?" She snorted. "Is that all? I thought it was some celebrity from Hollywood or summat. Like Johnny Depp."

"Who?" Now Fred wrinkled his nose at her. "Harry Potter IS a bloody celebrity."

"He's the one who blew up You-Know-Who!" George declared.

"Voldemort? I know that," Blaise said quickly. "It's just … well, didn't that happen years ago? And how can you be sure it was him? Have you seen him before?"

Now everyone looked at her like she was an alien. Blaise frowned. She didn't understand what the big deal was. Oma told her about Harry Potter, mentioning him briefly during lectures on Death-Eaters. But it seemed like a minor detail.  

"Where's his cabin? Did you introduce yourselves to him?" Susan asked.

"We already did. Ron's sitting with him. We're just stalking the snack cart. Which reminds me, Lee and Oliver's waiting in the hall for us." The twins got up from their seat. Susan jumped after them.

"Um … I feel like some pumpkin juice myself. I'll go with you guys." Fred and George shrugged and scooted out the cabin while Susan tailed them, fluffing her hair quickly behind her. Cedric rolled his eyes behind her.

Once the door closed again, Blaise sulked in her seat. "Did I sound stupid a while ago, Cedric?" 

Cedric ruffled her hair. "It's okay. You studied in a muggle school, so you missed out on all this Harry Potter hype."

"But my parents did tell me about him. But I guess they downplayed it. Even Oma didn't seem impressed when she spoke of him. I mean … she said he was the luckiest little bugger in the world to survive and defeat Voldemort. But I never thought he was a bloody celebrity as Fred put it." Blaise frowned.

"Well, you family's different, you know. Just by the fact that they taught you to call You-Know-Who by his name. My dad told me that Oma and your folks helped the Ministry weed out a lot of You-Know-Who's supporters after his disappearance. Dad said Oma was the most fearless, most aggressive Auror of that time. Until she retired and lived the life of a recluse on that island."

"Hey! Oma's not a recluse!" Blaise snorted punching him lightly on the arm. "Okay, she's a little off her rocker. But I think it's just cabin fever." Cedric scratched at his chin.

"I always wondered why she never goes to the mainland. Is that just her 'thing' like Mad-Eye Moody and his flask?"

Blaise shrugged. "Papa told me Oma had a bad back, so it made traveling difficult. I've asked her before but she doesn't talk about it. But … I don't know. I think Oma still can kick some arse if she wanted to."

"Maybe it _is a bad back. Some old people, especially ones as active as Oma, don't like admitting they're getting a bit crusty on the edges."_

Blaise leaned back on her seat. Zephyr fluttered to her lap and rested his head on her stomach. "Well, her back's probably okay now. She's coming to our manor for Christmas." The cabin door opened again and Susan stepped inside, red-faced.

"Did you see Potter? Or did you chat up with Oliver instead?" Blaise asked. Susan shook her head as a tear fell down her cheek. "Susan, what happened?"

"A horrible boy … made fun of me. Abbot laughed …"

"Bloody Abbot is on this train?!" Blaise snarled. Cedric pushed her back down on her seat. 

"Simmer down, Blaze. I don't think it's Abbot this time. Is it, Susan?"

She hiccupped between her sniffles, "Stupid, pasty boy, all pinch-faced. He had these gorilla monsters with him. Pushed me on the floor. He figured I was looking for Potter. He said Potter would never make friends with me. Then he made fun that my family was killed. I tried to fight back, but he pushed me on the bloody floor. Then Abbot stuck her nose out her cabin and laughed. Bet she only did it, because he scared her."

"Bloody lemming," Blaise hissed. Just then, Shawn poked his head through the door. 

"Hey, Cedric? Gerber's calling a meeting. Just to map out the game plan. Bring your broom too. He wants to look it over." Cedric nodded curtly as Shawn winked at Blaise. Cedric gripped his broom and turned to the girls.

"Leave this to me, girls. Don't be running out here cursing people silly." He looked directly at Blaise.

"But you can't do anything!" She groaned. "You can't use magic until you get to the school! At least, I don't have a ban like that on me yet!"

"See that's where we're different, _Blaze_. Sometimes, the best way is through communication. Not barging out here, lighting everyone's arse on fire."

"But, Cedric, they started it!"

"No," he said firmly. He closed the door behind him. Locking it for extra measure.

"Oh hell no," she mumbled and pulled her wand from her holster. Susan wiped her tears away.

"Blaise, it's okay. I don't want you to get into any trouble first thing-"

"Susan, you can't let them buggers walk over you like that! You let them get away with one thing; they'll only do it again. And make the pain and humiliation worse. Let them know who's boss! Let them know you can hex their arses to Timbuktu!"

"But, Blaise, as much as I'd love to do that. I don't know a lot of spells." Blaise flashed her a devilish grin.

"Watch and learn, Bones." She pointed her wand to the door. "_Alohamora_!" The door sprung open and they ventured in the hall. "Tell me. What does this bugger look like?" Susan gulped and pointed down the hall.

"That one. The skinny, blonde one who looks like he's just inhaled some dung." The girls marched over there. The boy stood in front of some rather sour-looking children, talking up a storm.

"… That Potter is a joke. They act like he's a bloody miracle worker! Please! He can't even afford a decent pair of jeans or shoes. His shirt looked like an elephant threw up its skin on him …" The kids roared in laughter. Blaise scowled. "And you should see the company he keeps. Poor boy Weasley. The loser still had coal on his face. And that git Longbottom went into his cabin with some Mudblood with pubes for hair!"

Blaise cleared her throat and tapped the boy hard on the back of his head. He spun around. He sneered at Susan, and raised his brow at Blaise.

"What do you want, Bones? Decide to bring your back-up?" The kids chuckled behind him. One boy shouted behind him.

"Hey, blondie! Back that arse up over here!" Blaise narrowed her eyes.

"Susan wants you to apologize for pushing her in the hall. And you will."

The boy crossed his arms. "Oh really? And I suppose you think you're going to make me? Who the hell are you anyway? Bone's looks more like _your_ servant than you hers."

Blaise blew the hair from her eyes. "I'm Blaise Zabini. And I don't give a damn who you are, so save the introduction. I'm telling you politely … apologize or else."

Several students fidgeted behind the boy. He, too, flicked his grey eyes over Blaise with more interest now.

"Zabini, huh? Well, isn't that touching, everyone? A Zabini's helping out a Bone's for once. Are you trying to start a revolution here? Should I start donating to the Weasley's as well? Wouldn't that be the day? But my family's always giving to charities. I wouldn't be surprised if the Weasley's did receive a hand-me-out from a Malfoy."

Blaise snorted. "Ooh, _Malfoy. Yeah, that plug for yourself wasn't obvious at all."_

"Oh yeah? Well, how about this wand under your chin?" He grinned. _Sneaky bastard, Blaise seethed. "My father's taught me well, Zabini. Just walk away. No chance in hell I'm apologizing to anybody."_

Blaise pulled Susan behind her. The whole time, her left hand was under her cloak. "I was taught well too, Malfoy. Go ahead. Just bloody try. I _want to use this wand on you. I could use the entertainment."_

His eyes widened as he glanced at the bulge under Blaise's cloak. The standoff lasted for several seconds. Then Malfoy tried his first curse.

Blaise deflected it and blasted Malfoy back into his crowd. They piled up on top of each other. Blaise made certain Malfoy's heavy sidekicks fell on top of the dog pile last to add discomfort. Malfoy aimed his wand and hit Blaise with a weak _Rictusempra hex. Blaise stopped laughing long enough to mutter another spell that made Malfoy jump up and rub his groin._

"What the hell? What is this?!" He yelled. He pulled his belt up and howled.

"A simple hex, Malfoy. Say you're sorry and I'll make those leeches on your balls disappear. Unless … that's your thing." Blaise yawned while Susan giggled nervously behind her. Malfoy gasped and yelped in pain.

"Okay! I'm bloody sorry!" He screamed.

"Again. And watch your language this time."

Malfoy threw her a murderous look but the leeches dug into his crotch again.

"I'm very sorry, Bones! I swear. I'm sorry!" Blaise turned slowly to Susan.

"Is that okay for you? Or should I send something up his arse for more feeling?"

"NO! Susan Bones! I'm terribly sorry. I won't ever push you anywhere ever again!" Malfoy wailed. Susan smiled at Blaise and nodded.

"Guess that'll have to do," Blaise drawled. Susan skipped back to their cabin. Blaise waved her wand and Malfoy stopped writhing in pain. "Just remember, Malfoy. If it were up to me, I'd've let those slugs suck you dry." She threw a menacing look at Malfoy's pale-faced cronies. 

"You've all been forewarned." She pivoted on her heel and sauntered back to her cabin. 

A few minutes later, Cedric unlocked the door and settled sheepishly back in his seat.

"I'm sorry I had to lock you girls in. I just don't think you should start any fights so early," he said. "But I did tell a couple of prefects what happened. So whichever house that boy gets sorted in, he'll be written up and warned."

"It's okay, Cedric," Blaise said sweetly. Susan nodded casually flipping a page in a magazine. "You know, if Malfoy knows any better, he's probably regretting his actions, maybe even wincing at them as we speak."

Blaise and Susan pretended to laugh over a picture in the magazine while Cedric scratched his head. He never said that the boy was a Malfoy. He tried not to frown as he worried what Blaise got herself into this time.   

The train ride ended shortly after Blaise's duel with Malfoy. Cedric told the girls to follow Hagrid to the boats. Cedric ruffled Blaise's hair as Garrett jogged up to them.

"That's for good luck in the sorting," he grinned. Blaise bit her lip.

"Cedric, what if I don't get into Hufflepuff?" A small panic crept into her voice. He shook his head.

"It wouldn't matter to me which house you got sorted in. I'll still be there for you. Besides, you met Oliver and Roger. They have specific instructions from me to look out for you. Just in case."

Blaise grinned and hugged him tightly. "I'll see you soon!" She skipped away from him and joined Susan with the rest of the 1st years.

Susan elbowed Blaise gently in her side. "That's him."

"Who?" Blaise frowned, scanning the crowd. She suddenly caught her breath.

"Standing beside Ron. The one with glasses. Can you see the scar?"

Blaise didn't answer. She didn't hear Susan. She had been staring at the boy a few feet from her. He had wickedly, messy black hair and brilliant green eyes. He bent his head and slipped a worn pair of glasses over them. He grinned up at Hagrid. 

"All right there, Harry?"

Blaise flinched. So this was Harry Potter. He nodded up at Hagrid, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. She saw he had a scar on his forehead. She took a step back, staring at the scar. Shaped like a bolt of lightning …

"OUCH! Watch where you're going!" A girl hissed behind her. Blaise spun around and stared down at Hannah Abbot. The girl lifted a brow at Blaise. "Well, if it isn't Blaise Zabini. What a surprise to have you here. I thought Hogwarts only accepted children who were enrolled at _birth. So … how many galleons did your family pay to get your arse here?"_

Susan pulled Blaise away before the girl yanked her wand out. "Let it go, Blaise. Let's just follow Hagrid."

Nobody spoke much as they followed Hagrid down a steep, rocky path. Well, once in a while Blaise would hear Malfoy complain distantly behind them. Or Neville would sniff loudly ahead of them. Knowing Neville, he must've lost something or forgot to eat. Blaise tried not to stare too much at the back of Potter's head, but she couldn't help it. So more than once, she tripped over some stones on the path.

Around the bend, everyone got their first sight of Hogwarts. Blaise smiled widely, taking in the castle perched on the hulking mountain of granite. A wide lake opened at the edge of the path, its waters stirred quietly as more students gathered behind Hagrid. Blaise saw over a dozen small boats lined along the lake's shore. Hagrid jabbed a stubby finger at the boats.

"No more'n four to a boat!" He called. Blaise saw Malfoy and one of his mates follow Potter and Weasley. Malfoy had a twisted grin on his lips, eying Potter and the lake. Blaise didn't know why she did it, but she stuck out her boot just as Malfoy passed in front of her. He stumbled. So it was Neville and another girl who joined the boys on the boat. 

Blaise joined Susan on one boat. Unfortunately, Hannah joined them as well, with another redhead. This girl smiled shyly at Blaise and Susan. 

"Hi, I'm Morag MacDougal," she said blushing. Blaise smiled at her, ignoring Hannah, who in turn ignored her.

"I'm Blaise Zabini, and this's Susan Bones." The girls exchanged handshakes. Morag turned expectantly to Hannah but the girl kept her face turned away from the girls. Morag raised her brow glancing back at Blaise. Blaise crossed her eyes behind Hannah's back and made a lewd gesture. Morag snickered. Blaise liked her already. 

Blaise started feeling nervous when Professor McGonagall left them in a small chamber beside the Entrance Hall. Blaise leaned on the stonewall beside Susan. Morag shuffled up to the girls. 

"Is it okay if I …" She stammered staring at the ground. Blaise scooted over.

"Sure, Morag." She smiled. Susan bit on her nail.

"Are you nervous? I heard we'd be tested. I … I don't think I'm ready," Morag said quietly. Susan nodded biting her nail harder. Blaise sighed.

"Someone told me we'd have our brains scanned." She patted Morag on the shoulder. "I don't think it's as bad as it sounds," Blaise insisted, trying to convince both of them. Her nerves heightened when Malfoy sauntered over to them.

"Feeling brave, are we, Zabini?" He whispered. Blaise barked a small laugh.

"You obviously are, Malfoy. Did you want me to hex you in the arse now?" Morag's eyes widened. Malfoy's face went pink but he kept the sneer on his lips.

"Just to let you know, Zabini. You had better pray you aren't sorted into Slytherin. Because that's where I'll be."

"Please," Blaise snorted. "I'm not in the same category as you, Malfoy. You're just wannabe Dark Wizard trash. Yes, I called you trash. Now fuck off." Malfoy waved a fist at her.

"You've been warned, girl." Blaise rolled her eyes. 

Professor McGonagall stepped back into the chamber. Malfoy backed away as the Professor had them form a line.

"Blaise, you're crazy!" Susan hissed as Morag followed behind them. "Cedric's right. You shouldn't be picking fights especially with the Malfoy's. They're a powerful family. You should be more careful." Blaise frowned.

"I won't let anyone intimidate me, Susan. Everyone's here for the same reason. To be wizards. I can't stand people like Malfoy who think they're better than everyone else." Susan shook her head. Blaise narrowed her eyes at Malfoy as they walked into the Great Hall. 

"Was Susan right?" Morag whispered behind Blaise. She shrugged. 

"I've encountered people like Malfoy before. I expect he'll be a thorn on my side for a while. But I'm prepared." She patted the wand under her cloak. "Besides, I'm not going where he'll be."

Morag bit her lip. "Malfoy's a pureblood, right?" Blaise nodded. "Are you a pureblood too?" Blaise wrinkled her nose.

"As far as I know, yeah. But blood's not everything." Morag nodded quietly. The professor pulled out a scroll. She then explained how the sorting would commence.

"That's it?" Morag snorted. "We just sit on a stool and wear a hat?!" Just then the hat's brim opened and it sang it's song. Soon after, the sorting began.

Hannah Abbot was the first one called. Blaise grimaced when the Sorting Hat sorted the girl into Hufflepuff. _God, I'm never going to get rid of that girl_, Blaise thought to herself. But even with Hannah Abbot, she still wanted Hufflepuff.

The hat also sorted Susan into Hufflepuff. Susan gave Blaise the thumbs up sign after she sat next to Hannah. Cedric patted her on the back. Blaise's nervousness turned to excitement. She couldn't wait to share a dorm with Susan. She already imagined all the hi-jinx they'd get into. They'd rule Hogwarts. And she'll have Malfoy and Abbot crawling on their knees.

Blaise concentrated on clearing her mind before her turn. Neville was sorted into Gryffindor. Well, at least if she was sorted there she'd know Neville, the Weasley's, and Oliver. Morag was then sorted into Ravenclaw. She whispered good luck to Blaise before she went to her table. Blaise grinned inwardly. She knew someone in Ravenclaw too. She didn't feel as tense then. If the hat sorted her in either house, she would still be okay.

The hat placed Malfoy in Slytherin, of course. Big whup. Blaise glared at him and his cronies. They all reminded Blaise of the kids in St. Bridget's. Rich, bratty, with powerful parents. She frowned. Somehow, that didn't sound too far from herself.

Then Potter sat on the stool. Blaise held her breath. After some debate, the hat yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Ever since Blaise knew about Hogwarts and ever since Cedric started studying there, she only knew one thing … she had to be sorted in Hufflepuff. She didn't even think about it. But now … oh, this was stupid. Just because Potter's in Gryffindor – PFFT! She wasn't _those_ kind of girls. Like hell. She'll take Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. She didn't care about Potter and his precious Gryffindor.

_Well, that's stupid, Blaise mused. Why was she all defensive suddenly? The boy's done nothing, but stand there with his crazy-arse hair and shiny green eyes … Blaise bowed her head, hoping no one noticed the blush rise to her cheeks. What the hell's she thinking? _

Professor McGonagall called Ron Weasley's name. He looked ready to hurl, but the hat sorted him to Gryffindor as Blaise predicted. 

"Zabini, Blaise." 

The hat covered her eyes and Blaise saw nothing. The hat hemmed and hawed. Blaise sighed.

"Hurry up and sort me to Hufflepuff already," she mumbled to herself. The hat snickered.

"Hufflepuff? Oh no, child, you're too much for that house." 

"What?! Why would you say that?!"

"Well, Hufflepuff's pretty much for the tenderhearted, forgiving soul, Zabini. That's not you. No … I sense a lot of ambition in you, extreme intelligence, the desire to prove yourself …"

Her pulse quickened. "Then Gryffindor maybe?" She suddenly saw herself sitting by the fireplace swapping lectures notes with Potter. She shook her head. She's Blaise 'Hex-Your-Arse' Zabini, not giggle-happy Harry Potter fan. The hat chuckled. 

"You're quite stubborn, aren't you? You remind me a lot of your grandmother. Yes, Rhonda Zabini was a firecracker."

"Ravenclaw then," Blaise said. "That's fine with me. Oma would be happy." She got ready to take off the hat. 

"Yes … Ravenclaw would suit you well … You're aversion to do anything by the book is not their motto though … I'll have to go … SLYTHERIN!"

Blaise almost fell off her stool. "What?!"

"Well, a Zabini's needed there."

She tore the hat off her head and stormed off the podium. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't bloody believe this! This was a big, hulking, perverse mistake! She didn't catch the glances Cedric and Susan exchanged, or Morag's small encouraging wave. Blaise dragged her feet to the dreary table and scowled when Draco Malfoy scooted over. 

"Saved a seat for you, Zabini," he drawled. 

She flopped on the chair and flicked her hair in his face. He scowled but looked the other direction when he caught Professor Dumbledore glancing their way. 

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Blaise picked at her plate, not feeling hungry, not feeling like anything. She actually considered writing to her parents. Ask them to come pick her up. Ship her off to Beauxbatons or something. This wasn't right.

"You're awfully quiet there, Zabini," Malfoy teased. He deliberately knocked her glass of pumpkin juice on her lap. He chuckled, watching Blaise's complexion turn from green to pink. Blaise waved her fork in his face.

"I'm not scared of you, punk," she hissed. Then she knocked down his glass of juice. He jumped from his seat. He looked ready to punch her in the face.

"Slytherin, first years! Come this way!" A prefect barked. Blaise blended with the crowd of girls. She felt like the victim of a cruel joke. She followed the group into the Entrance Hall. The 1st year Gryffindors followed behind her. She saw Percy leading them away. She paused and lifted her hand to wave at him. Percy looked right past her and called for the first years to follow him up the marble staircase.

Blaise felt a lump in her throat. She didn't follow her group to the Slytherin dorm. Instead, she pushed through the castle's doors and flopped on the front steps. She cradled her head in her hands. 

Percy didn't even smile at her. Cedric and Susan probably will do the same. She's in Slytherin. No … she IS a Slytherin. The hat was right. She was stubborn, totally disrespectful to the rules, and yeah … she wanted to prove herself. If proving herself meant proving her critics wrong.

The hat said Hufflepuffs were tenderhearted and forgiving. She wasn't that at all. But she wasn't good enough for Ravenclaw or Gryffindor either. And Blaise knew … in the back of her mind she knew … she deserved Slytherin. She was such a wreck of a kid. 

"Miss Zabini?" She jerked her head up in surprise. A tall man dressed in black robes stared down his nose at her. "Shouldn't you be with your housemates?" Blaise slouched further into the step. 

"Can I contest my sorting, Professor?"

"Professor Snape," he said sharply. "And no, you cannot dispute your sorting. If we allowed you this privilege, we'd have to grant it to every student. It would cause an imbalance of each house's enrollment." Blaise groaned under her breath.

"I suppose a lot of people didn't like their sorting." Professor Snape's lip twitched.

"Actually, you're the first student who's complained. Come along, Miss Zabini. I'm the Head of your house. If you have any questions, come to me." Judging from the sneer on Professor Snape's face, Blaise would have to make that a last resort. 

She followed him down a damp corridor. It seemed the light grew dimmer in this part of the castle, just like her spirits. They stopped at a brick wall. Snape turned to her.

"The password is _Fio regere_. Get yourself settled. You will get your schedules first thing tomorrow."

"Wait. You're not coming in there with me?" Professor Snape raised his brow.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, Miss Zabini?" 

She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. "Nothing I can't handle myself, Professor." She ducked through the wall before he could question her further.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," an older girl smirked crossing her arms in front of her. Blaise recognized her as one of the kids on the train. The girl had a badge with the letters HG by her collar. _Great, I knocked over the bloody Head Girl, Blaise groaned inwardly. She steadied her hand inside her cloak. _

"You must be feeling stupid right now, Zabini," Malfoy snickered. He flipped through a comic book in front of the fireplace. Blaise narrowed her eyes. 

She noticed several students turned to her. For a house notorious for Dark Magic and devilish behavior, the students of Slytherin were a handsome bunch … save for a few trolls. Purebloods were an interesting breed. Imagine going through one's family line, whittling out the weak and flawed from the strong and immaculate, to preserve all the best traits. It was similar to the muggles' manipulation of DNA and genetics. 

Strength of the blood's purity can be directly related to how handsome or beautiful the wizard or witch was. It meant the blood never strayed to a foreign line. Purebloods received the best service, the most thorough education in magic, etiquette, and fashion. And of all types of wizards, a pureblood bred with these privileges had to meet high expectations from not only their family but from also themselves. 

Every single one of them donned luxurious robes with belts of fine leather. Their jewelry, which varied from Medieval to Ancient Greek to Contemporary New York, sparkled as bright as their eyes. And one could tell from their eyes that powerful magic brewed deep in them. The dim lighting and musty air of the dungeons darkened their features. Like Michelangelo's marble sculptures, their faces resembled angels and Adonis' of the Old World. Inspirations of Rembrandt and Da Vinci. Blaise wouldn't be surprised if these students' ancestors did pose for the legendary artists. Yes, they were all tragically beautiful … like angels with blackened wings, ready to pounce at the jugular. Blaise found this observation rather seductive. 

Acknowledging this, only made Blaise feel more out of place. Sure she didn't belong in the other houses because she wasn't good enough for them. But she didn't think she was bad enough for Slytherin either. 

Blaise knew they outnumbered her. She remembered vividly the last beating she took from the kids at St. Bridget's. Even if she had walked away from that fight, she still felt she lost. Draco smirked as he twirled his wand from one hand to the other. 

"You know, if you beg me, I'll let you off easy … today." 

The smugness in his voice annoyed Blaise. But for some reason, she felt calm. The wand at her side made her feel prepared. She felt complete and … free. _Fio regere_, Snape said was the password. _Fio regere_:  'I am made … to rule.'

She flicked her cloak off her shoulder revealing her wand.

"Do your worst," she said evenly. The Head Girl raised a brow while Malfoy aimed his wand at Blaise's heart. 

"Hold it, Malfoy," she snapped. He scowled. The girl approached Blaise slowly. A smile crept to her lips, Blaise found it unsettling. "Impressive, Zabini. You've got a whole house ready to beat your arse in, yet you're ready for it. If that's not Slytherin feistiness, than I'm a muggle."

Blaise flinched while Malfoy sulked in the corner. The girl extended her hand.

"I'm Elle Wood. I think you met my cousin Oliver?" Blaise nodded. Elle jerked her head towards a spiral staircase. "The girls' dorm's that way. I'll show you." She turned to Malfoy. "Did you want something, Malfoy?"

He slouched away. Blaise flipped him the bird and followed Elle up the stairs.

"It's brave of you to stand up to Malfoy, Zabini," Elle said quietly. "But you shouldn't turn against the whole house. Malfoy has many connections. His father specializes in intimidating people and manipulating them." She led Blaise to a large door stained in a rich burgundy varnish.

"I know about his family. My grandmother told me about them. I think I've been briefed enough to recognize all the Death-Eaters." Elle gasped but stared at Blaise admirably.

"I don't know what the hat was thinking sorting you here. But you better watch your back with that talk, Blaise." Elle smiled. "I won't be your baby-sitter."

"I don't need one, Elle," Blaise replied. Elle nodded. 

"Well, take my advice. If you want to survive this house, make friends. We're not all that bad."

"Yeah, I could tell."

Blaise watched Elle walk away. She sighed and opened the door to her dorm. Two girls turned to her. Their reactions were mixed.

"That hex you did on Malfoy was impressive," a girl with black hair said.

"What're you doing in this house?" The petite girl with rosy blond hair demanded.

… _A Zabini's needed there_ … Blaise shrugged and threw her cloak on her bed. The holster was still snug on her chest.

"To raise hell I guess." 

To her surprise, all the girls grinned back at her. 

I'm going to zip by her years. So her first year isn't going to be this 5 chapter long entry. Again, thanks for reading. Thanks for reviewing. ~Nengski 


	5. Truth About the Zabini's

Chapter Four: Truth About the Zabini's 

Chain of Letters

My Dearest Blaise,

   I understand you're upset about your sorting, but your Professor Snape is right. You can't petition for a second opinion. I would've liked you sorted into Ravenclaw simply because that was my old House, but I think Slytherin would be good for you. You'll find your powers challenged often, you'll find your strengths and weaknesses faster this way. I know you want to develop into the great sorceress I believe you'll become. Don't listen to what other people say about Slytherin. I had friends in that House, all who I love and are still dear to me this day. Bad people don't come from Houses, Blaise. They come from their decisions. Keep that in your mind always. Prove them all wrong. 

Love, Oma

Dearest Blaise,

   I would've loved to have you go to my school, but I have to say you're still safer in Hogwarts than in Durmstang or even in Beauxbatons. Your mum agrees and extends her love.  

   We feel we gave you the wrong impression about Slytherin in general. Yes, plenty Death-Eaters, Voldemort himself, came from this house, but you need to remember that the children in Slytherin are not their parents. There's still potential for them to NOT make the same mistakes or go down the same road their past has traveled. Give them the benefit of the doubt, dear. Sometimes all one needs is someone who believes in them. 

   Take care of yourself. Hope you're adding more beads to your collection. See you soon.

Love, Dad

My Blaise, 

   Please don't put yourself down just because you're in Slytherin. Cedric and Susan are still in Hogwarts. I trust they won't abandon you just for this. I don't know why the hat sorted you there, but if I had to guess … it's because of your previous experience. Don't be ashamed of what you endured growing up, sweetie. I know you didn't have the most typical childhood but this has made you strong, fearless, and fierce. Slytherin looks for those very qualities in their students, these aren't bad traits at all. And from my own experience, the Sorting hat placed me in Hufflepuff, because I was a crybaby that loved animals and I was a bit lazy when it comes to reading books. I know you can turn the situation around to your benefit. You're a fighter, Blaise. Give them hell.

Love always, McGee

Learning to Fly

Her first week at Hogwarts wasn't as bad as she thought it'd be considering the sordid twist of events. Elle's approval of Blaise thawed the iciness of her peers to a certain degree. After the first week, Blaise had done her own sorting. She came up with three lists titling them: _Friends_, _To Be Hexed, and _Safe for Now_. _

On her _Friends_ list were obviously, Susan and Cedric. Though she hadn't spoken to Cedric since the Sorting. He sent notes to Blaise via Susan, reminding the blonde to keep her chin up and offering his textbooks for Blaise to research new hexes. The Weasley's were all on this list too, but all had asterisks. That meant she considered them friends but they might have a different opinion on her. Neville was on her list too, but Malfoy teased the poor boy so much that Blaise wondered if she could ever look Neville in the eye without feeling ashamed. Elle and Oliver Wood, Roger Davies, and Shawn Keating completed the list. 

_Safe for Now were all her roommates, the whole 1st year batches of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, and some Hufflepuffs. Both lists were moderate. As were Blaise's social skills. She wasn't trying to be Miss Popular here. She just wanted to be another anonymous character on Hogwarts' campus. Just a last name on role call. _

_To Be Hexed, unfortunately, was a big arse list. Malfoy and his minions were top on the list, of course, though Blaise noticed his animosity ebbed a bit since he focused on aggravating Potter and Weasley. The whole Slytherin Quidditch team was on her list because they painted Cedric's new broom pink and made up a very offensive euphemism of Hufflepuff. Plus, Marcus Flint was a punk who said girls had no business on the Quidditch field. This prompted Millicent Bulstrode to fling bread pudding on his head. Come to think of it, Millicent's _Safe for Now_ status could be upgraded any day now. _

Hannah Abbot pissed off Blaise, Susan … and pretty much everyone else when she banged on about zodiac signs during their first _Astronomy class. Her cocky ignorance prompted Professor Sinistra into a pop quiz and four feet of parchment homework. _

All of Cedric's girl classmates hated Blaise. His notes to and enthusiastic chat about his neighbor had the girls jealous especially when they all saw Blaise as this 11-year old, flat-chested Slytherin. They apparently didn't see the allure to that. 

In fact, Blaise noticed that plenty of girls in the other houses resented her. She could only assume it was due to the attention she got from Cedric and his friends. Who knew Cedric would be so popular and coveted? None of the girls understood why a _Slytherin_ like Zabini would be friends with some of the coolest and cutest blokes in Hogwarts. Well, frankly, Blaise didn't get it either. It wasn't like she was their _muse or anything. The boys teased her about her broom incident, messed with her hair, pinched her nose, called her __ickle__ Blazy-poo, and suffocated her with their flatulence. Yet the girls think this's a __good thing? *sigh* _

Blaise made it a point to get out of the Slytherin dorm early every day. She had already cost the house _forty_ points in the past three days, because she developed a habit of confronting anyone who so much as flared a _nostril_ her way. Professor Snape seemed bemused by her feistiness; the rest of the house did not however. 

Her schedule came out to her advantage in spite she only had one class with Susan. She had Astronomy with Hufflepuff on Wednesday, and on Friday, she had Potions with Gryffindor. As for the other classes, she sat next to Morag in every single one. Though Morag was nothing like Susan or even Hong, Blaise found herself bonding quickly with the Ravenclaw. 

Morag MacDougal came from a mixed family of wizards and muggles. Both her folks descended from pureblood families but later generations crossed over to wed muggleborns, muggles, and half-and-half's. Still, Morag had expected to be a Slytherin since her father's side of the family was predominantly from that house. Morag even had _relatives in Slytherin, well; they've since disowned her little impure arse, but still._

Morag's personality bordered on the shy side, so she didn't adapt well to Ravenclaw's penchant for social competitiveness. Popularity meant a lot in that house as much as it did in Slytherin. The difference was Ravenclaws desired popularity for the sake of being popular, while Slytherins considered popularity a stepping-stone to the ultimate goal: Total Domination. Morag had other reasons for not bonding with her housemates …

"They're all so vain," she muttered as she cuddled her Puffskein. "I couldn't use the bloody bathroom this morning because all the 2nd years crowded around it, dabbing gobbledy-gook on their lips. Just so they can prance around Davies or Diggory, whenever he walks by. God, I hope I don't get like that when I hit puberty." The Puffskein hummed in response, Morag couldn't help grinning.

They had Care for Magical Creatures. Blaise giggled as her Puffskein wrapped its slinky pink tongue around her finger. The furry little balls had the whole class preoccupied and allowed the two girls to talk privately.

"Girls are _swooning_ over Cedric?" Blaise snorted. "But he's a dork. Picks his nose, belches the alphabet. Isn't that right my ickle Puffy Skinny?" She cooed snuggling the Puffskein to her nose. 

"Well, when you put it that way, he _is_ a bit disgusting," Morag snorted. "Hey, when's your flying class? Mine's this afternoon. I can't wait. Mum used to let me …"

Blaise gulped. "Flying class? As in flying with brooms?" 

"No, flying as in flapping your buttocks really fast," Morag snorted. "Of course I meant brooms." 

Blaise's Puffskein suddenly peeped. She set it back on the table to let its tongue dig into a thimble filled with lint. "Is this class mandatory?"

"Well … I suppose it is. I mean, how else are you going to travel? Floo's no picnic."

Blaise spent the rest of the class moping. She didn't mind that a broom embarrassed her in front of people in Creer Upon Libby. She had been among friends. But if a broom went berserk on her in front of her housemates -- shit, in front of the whole school -- she'll never live that down.

"You'll be just fine, Blaise," Susan yawned.

"I suppose. Urgh! I hate brooms. Why can't I just use my Travlas Orb like all the other prodigies?"

"Oh shush. Show off." 

Wednesday, Midnight at the Astronomy Tower, Susan didn't really give Blaise a chance to play the Recluse card. She pulled Blaise to a seat the moment the reluctant Slytherin stepped onto the tower. This melted away Blaise's defenses and they were back to their usual routine: talking while pretending to look studious. Professor Sinistra gave them coordinates while they peered into the telescopes.

"Once you plot the lunar cycle of these planets, calculate the tide influx. Evaluate how all these factors play into the energy subsidy in wand use," the professor said in her buttery voice. She was a pretty woman, probably around Vanessa's age. She reminded Blaise of Van too, with the black hair and dark, heart-shaped lips. Blaise wondered what her mum was up to now, how was Yulee coping with no one in the manor, if Oma ever found what she had searched for in her maps.

"Psst! Hey, Zabini! I can see Uranus from here," Malfoy snickered. His friends joined him. Susan narrowed her eyes at them.

"Ignore them," Blaise sighed. "That's actually a compliment."

"I guess." Susan smirked. "Means he's checking out your bum."

"No, I-I didn't mean _that_. I mean … Well, he's usually …"

"I know what you meant. Oh my god, don't tell me you're _blushing_, you silly moo. It's _Malfoy_."

"I'm not blushing!" Blaise hissed a little louder than she liked. "Sorry. It's just been a pill dealing with that chuffer. He irks me so much that anything sets me off. Stupid, huh?" 

"Quite," replied Susan. Thank god, they had this class at night or Susan would see her blush. Blaise stuck her tongue at her and took her turn on the telescope. 

Friday she had Potions and dreaded flying lessons. If her broom-riding skills didn't improve by then, Malfoy and pretty much everyone in Hogwarts will be seeing Blaise's Uranus soon enough.    

_Shit, it's Friday, Blaise thought groggily to herself. She sat with her group at the table now, having breakfast. Well, at least trying to … Blaise kept her nose pointed at her plate. Locking eyes with anyone made her uneasy. She especially tuned out any voice that remotely resembled Cedric's, Susan's, or Malfoy's. Too bad Blaise couldn't tune out the voice that was currently speaking though._

"Parvati Patil makes me sick," Pansy Parkinson sniffed as she watched the Gryffindor slide into a seat next to Ron Weasley. "She acts all holier than Thou, ever since the sorting. But on the train ride here, she ranted how stupid Seamus Finnigan was and how she couldn't believe Hogwarts let a muggleborn like Granger in."

"Granger's smart," Blaise mumbled, swirling her spoon in her coffee. She wished Hong was around so she bum a valium from her or something. Anything to dull this constant complaining and whining.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Granger's a fussy, bossy know-it-all who assumes everyone around her is a dunderhead."

"Takes one to know one," Blaise said under her breath. Only Elle heard her and winked. Blaise smiled back tentatively.

Blaise found Elle complex. The Head Girl ruled the house and the whole school with an iron fist. But around Blaise, she seemed quite easy-going and laid back. She couldn't figure out which personality was true to Elle. Still, it felt good to have an older kid _admire_ her for once, not try to chop off her hair or tie her to a flagpole so she'll fry in the sun. 

Pansy took a long gulp from her goblet. "Well, I'm just glad we don't see those stupid Gryffindors often. Potions with them every Friday is enough. They're such a sorry lot." Blaise bit her lip. Millicent Bulstrode snickered.

"Longbottom was pretty pathetic." Blaise stiffened. "I'm embarrassed to say he's a Pureblood. Are you okay, Blaise? Looks like you got something stuck in your throat."

Blaise cleared her throat. "Neville's a friend. He's very nice."

"Whatever," Millicent shrugged. Blaise rubbed at her temple. 

"You know who was really pathetic?" Pansy smirked. "That Potter. Didn't know a single bloody answer in Potions. Snape was right. Celebrity isn't everything."

Blaise rolled her eyes. "I don't think Potter's walking around telling everyone who he is," she said as Pansy and Millicent exchanged raised brows. "He looks uncomfortable about the whole thing actually. It's people like Malfoy who heckle him in the halls that draw the attention to him."

"Got a soft spot for Potter, have you, Zabini?" Pansy narrowed her eyes.

"No, I don't," she replied, figuring she had enough labels plastered on her arse, what more if she's a Potter fan. Just then, Elle stood from her seat.

"First years, I reckon your flying classes are this afternoon? Just to remind you that the school has strict rules about first years and broomsticks. The only brooms you'll be using on the field are the ones that the school provided you. Keep that in mind and we'll be just fine." She walked away with the other 7th years. A fork scraped loudly on someone's plate.

"That's rubbish!" Blaise heard Malfoy groan from down the table. "I've been flying on my family's estate for years. I don't see why 1st years can't bring their own brooms. I've asked my father to-"

"Blah, blah, blah," Blaise drawled pushing her plate away and standing from table. 

"Where're you scurrying off to, Zabini?" Malfoy called.

Blaise sighed loudly. Why is it, even when's he's absorbed in the topic of himself, he still sees her when she tries to make an exit? She didn't answer him and instead made her way for the Entrance Hall.

"See you in Madame Hooch's class!" Millicent called behind her.

Blaise cringed at the thought. There's no way she'll put herself out there just to splatter her arse on the ground. She'd only be adding fuel for Malfoy to tease her and mess with her head.

She dragged her feet to the library. She just sat at a table with a book titled _Quidditch Through the Ages_ when someone pulled a chair beside her.

"Hi, Blaise. What're you reading?" Blaise looked up and broke into a relieved smile.

"Hi, Oliver. I'm not really reading. I just needed an excuse to sit here. How're you?"

"All right, I guess. Got Charms in a few minutes. The team's still looking for a Seeker. Feel a bit pressured. McGonagall's been harping on about last year's match. We were slaughtered." He smiled as he raked his hand through his hair. 

"Wish I could help … but you know I'm pretty useless." She shrugged. Oliver chuckled.

"Err … have you talked to Cedric yet? He mentioned that he's been trying to meet up with you but you keep slipping away." Blaise suddenly fascinated herself with the book's worn cover. "Uh, Blaise?"

"I've been busy," she mumbled.

"In your first week?" Oliver mused. He pulled the book away. "Blaise, I know how much it meant for you to be sorted with Cedric. He was pretty concerned that you might be disappointed if you weren't. That's why he spoke with us in the other houses. He really cares about you and wants you to have fun in this school. I admit we all were pretty shocked that you were sorted where you were. But no one thinks you're any different for being in Slythe-" 

"Don't say it." Blaise bit her lip. It was bad enough hearing it in her head; she didn't need it said aloud. Oliver leaned back in his seat.

"Elle's my cousin. She may look tough, but she's good people. She'll look out for you."

She stood from her table. "I'm sorry. I … I'm going to be late for my class."

Blaise felt horrible walking out on Oliver like that. He meant well. She suddenly felt foolish. _This weekend, I'll meet with Cedric_, she told herself. She realised she had unwittingly created a drama between the two of them. He's sending her notes, chasing after her in the halls. No wonder the girls hated her. It looked like she was playing hard to get. _Grossness_, Blaise gagged. 

When Blaise reached the field, everyone was standing beside their brooms. She sneaked into line as Hooch barked instructions. Everyone looked eager for this lesson. Only Neville seemed to mirror her anxiety. Her stomach twisted into a knot. She'd make a mockery of herself in front of both Slytherin _and_ Gryffindor. 

She nervously glanced at the students in front of her. She saw Harry Potter's broom lift right to his hands. Blaise stared at her own broom. Her hands remained inside her pockets. The only way she could get out of this is if she played sick. She could say she was allergic to broomsticks and infect herself with Pickleworm sap. Or maybe she should just whack Malfoy over the head with her broom … Madame Hooch would be upset, but, seriously, could she blame Blaise? It's Malfoy.

"Come back, boy!" Madame Hooch suddenly shouted. Blaise tore herself from her thoughts to see Neville's terrified expression seconds before he dropped twenty feet to the ground. She cupped her hand over her mouth, muffling her screech. Madame Hooch sped to his crumpled figure as everyone crowded around nervously. 

"Broken wrist," she said grimly. She helped him up slowly. Relief swept over Blaise when she heard Neville squeak in pain. At least, he's alive. Madame Hooch turned sharply to the rest of the dumbstruck class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.'" She walked away with Neville hobbling beside her. Blaise made a mental note to send Neville some Fizzing Whizbees for a speedy recovery. Well-wishing from the guilty, better his arse than hers. When Madam Hooch returned, Blaise would have the Pickleworm sap ready and she can glide out of here as well … with her feet planted firmly on the ground. 

Blaise jumped at a sudden bark of laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?!" Malfoy hooted, wiping tears from his eyes. His friends joined him. Blaise narrowed her eyes. 

"That's it," she hissed under her breath and reached for her wand. Suddenly Malfoy spotted something on the grass. 

"It's that stupid thing Longbottom's Gran sent him." He held it dingily in his hand. A crooked grin on his face. Blaise read his intentions clearly. _Forget magic, I'm tackling this bugger down_, she seethed and stepped forward.

"Give that here, Malfoy," a quiet voice said. Blaise stopped in her tracks. As did everyone else around her. Her eyes rounded on who spoke. It wasn't every day she heard someone, aside from herself, talk back to Malfoy. She couldn't help grinning when she saw Harry Potter staring at Malfoy with a glint in his eye.

Malfoy tossed the ball lightly catching it back deftly in his hand. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?"

"Give it _here!_" Harry yelled. Blaise's eyebrow shot straight up the same time Malfoy did, broomstick and all. He taunted Harry to fly up and retrieve the Remembrall. Blaise wasn't surprised to see Harry grab his broom. _The kid's got balls, she mused._

"NO!" Hermione Granger shouted. "Madam Hooch told us not to move-"

Blaise scoffed loudly, suddenly reminded of a certain whiny Weasley. Her eyes darted back to Potter. It seemed everyone held his or her breath waiting for his next move. The flash in Potter's eyes reminded Blaise of something she couldn't place … Oh, heck, probably just her own stubbornness.

"Go for it," she said under her breath. He did. Blaze let out a whoop that blended perfectly with Ron Weasley's. The look on Malfoy's face was priceless. Even Pansy looked impressed with Potter's sharp about-face. But when he dived … Blaise couldn't believe it. She never saw Cedric, the Weasley's -- Hell, she has never seen _anyone fly like that. The boy was a natural._

He caught the ball and landed on the grass in a light jog, when, from nowhere, Professor McGonagall ran onto the field screaming her head off. Blaise's heart dropped. She remembered Madame Hooch's warning. But it's ridiculous to expel someone for _this. Surely, the Headmaster wouldn't let that happen._

Malfoy burst into laughter once again as soon as the professor dragged Harry off the field, much to his housemates' dismay. 

"So much for the Boy Who Lived!" Malfoy crowed. "Soon'll he be known as the Boy Who Was Expelled After a Bloody Week." Crabbe and Goyle chuckled behind him. Blaise turned to him with a smirk on her face.

"Shouldn't that be the Boy Who Whipped Your Arse? Admit it, Malfoy. Potter had you shitting in your knickers. You couldn't fly like that even if you had your father buy the talent for you." Malfoy's face turned a blotchy pink while Ron laughed loudly behind Blaise.

"I didn't see _you_ jumping on your broom, Zabini," Pansy snapped. "You were sweating bullets before Longbottom crashed and burned five minutes ago." Pansy's name suddenly changed lists. 

Blaise simply shrugged. "I don't pretend I can fly as well as anyone here. But hell, even you have to admit Potter's got talent." The other Slytherins conceded, including Crabbe and Goyle to Malfoy's disgust.

"Class!" Madame Hooch called jogging towards them. "I've just spoken with Madame Pomfrey and Mr. Longbottom will be fine in a few hours. In the meantime, I've decided to check the rest of these brooms. Some might have gone rogue over the break. We'll meet again same time next week … Are we all still here?" She looked around, determining head count. Malfoy stepped forward.

"Actually-"

"_Silencio_!_" Blaise muttered pointing her wand at his throat. He coughed._

"What was that?" Madam Hooch turned. "I lost my count. But I think we're all still here, yes?"

"Yeah," Ron said innocently. Hermione looked scandalized, as did Pansy but neither girl spoke. Malfoy coughed louder. Madame Hooch dismissed the class. Blaise trotted away, before Malfoy could figure out who knocked his voice out.

Blaise just set her foot into the pathway leading to the castle's rose garden when someone yanked at her robes. Millicent lightly spun Blaise around to face Pansy. 

"All right. Undo it, Zabini." She snapped.

"Undo what?" They turned around to find Crabbe and Goyle scratching their heads as they tried to interpret their leader's gestures.  

"I know you placed that charm on Draco," Pansy said. Her hazel eyes flashed gold. "I don't know what game you're playing. But you shouldn't embarrass or belittle any of your mates in front of the other houses." Blaise rolled her eyes. But Elle's words rang in her head. _Make nice._

"I wasn't embarrassing him. I was keeping his mouth shut."

"What for? So you can cover up for Potter?!"

Blaise answered calmly, "Don't be stupid, Pansy. If Malfoy told on Potter, don't you think he'll wind up incriminating himself as well?" Pansy's lip trembled. "If you rat on Potter, you can't expect his housemates to keep their mouth shut, do you?" 

Pansy's mouth opened and closed like a chicken's arse. She still hadn't formed any intelligible sounds when Malfoy stormed over to the girls. Glaring pointedly at Blaise, he gestured at his throat. She removed the charm with a yawn.

"You little-" He sputtered.

"It was for your own good, Malfoy," Millicent said, surprising everyone including herself. Malfoy rolled his eyes and leered close to Blaise's face.

"Who's side are you on, Zabini?" He hissed. Blaise struck her nose right next to his.

"Whatever side _you're_ not on." 

His jaw tensed. "My father's told me many things about your family, Zabini. He said being a Zabini meant you had no wizard pride. If you recognized your true roots, you'd know … we're cut from the same mold. You may not be on my side, but keep in mind you're in Slytherin … that means _no one_ else in this school is on _your_ side either." 

Malfoy smirked at the uneasiness that flashed over Blaise's eyes, and walked away with his friends. With lingering looks, Pansy and Millicent followed him leaving Blaise alone in the corridor.

If there was any truth to what he said, Blaise wasn't about to admit to it. She spun on her heel and stomped through the halls. She pushed past the crowds of students and marched straight into the library. She approached a group donning the yellow and black badges on their robes. They looked up at her warily as she cleared her throat for their attention.

"Yes? Can we help you?" A girl asked stiffly eying the snake on Blaise's robes. Blaise crossed her arms.

"Yeah … have any of you seen Cedric Diggory?"

After some thought, the girl replied, "No." Blaise turned away in disgust. A blonde head peeked around the corner of the Transfiguration aisle.

"Blaze?" She looked up and broke into a smile. Cedric approached her and wrapped an arm over her shoulders. The group at the table exchanged stunned looks.

"You know this girl, Cedric?" One of them asked.

"Of course," he said with a look that dared the group to object. He steered Blaise out the library. They headed out the entrance hall and down the castle's front steps. Once they were out, he turned to her, lifting her chin to him. "So … want to talk about it?"

"Yeah. It's been rough." Blaise sighed as they sat on the bottom step. She rested her head on his shoulder. 

"I can imagine." He squeezed her shoulder. "I'm still here, kid. I said no matter what house you're in. I meant that." Blaise let him hug her closer to him.

"I believe you, Ced." She stared at the laces of her boots. "And you need to believe me when I tell you I'll be okay." She smiled sheepishly at him. "You don't have to baby-sit me anymore. I can take care of myself now."

He sighed and ruffled her hair. This always annoyed her in a cute way.

"Guess the baby chick has to fly out the nest some time," he muttered. 

"Yeah, out the nest," she echoed. She hooked her arm around Cedric's shoulders. "I'll be okay. No worries, Ced." She told herself Hogwarts would be her new home. Things didn't go that way she planned … but she'll make it her home.

Safe for Now

The holidays rolled by quickly and not without incident. Every shocking, terrifying, death-defying incident that occurred from the 1st Quidditch game to a troll invasion had Harry Potter's name all over it. The attention made Malfoy's jealousy even more obvious. It boosted the morale of Gryffindor. And it had Blaise shivering in the courtyard facing the Quidditch Pit.       

This courtyard was Blaise's spot. From here, one could see the Quidditch Pit on the East and the lake that they crossed the first day on the West. Not a lot of people wandered to this part of the castle. The freezing (even on the hottest days), high winds could intimidate the burliest of folk, while the altitude of this suspended extension made many light-headed. But since Blaise spent a lot of her time in Villa Montverde dangling her feet off a ledge with more than a hundred-foot drop, she felt right at home.

The pit was empty today, while everyone prepared for the holiday break. Blaise already had her stuff packed. She had stepped out of the Slytherin chamber for some fresh air. But mostly she wanted to escape the chill her roommates have given her since the broom incident. She closed her eyes against the wind, imagining herself standing on the edge of the cliff in Monteverde, feeling somewhat at peace. 

The wind pulled roughly at her cloak. Snow came to the school in flurries, covering the grounds in a white blanket. Blaise leaned over the ledge, letting her hair swing over the boundary. She checked her watch. She had two hours until she could board the train. She made her way back to her dormitory.

Blaise just stepped into the Great Hall when she bumped into Number 2 on her _To be Hexed_ list.

Hannah Abbot rounded her eyes as she elbowed the other students in her group. They stared at Blaise with more blankness than usual. 

"What now, Abbot?" Blaise snapped. "What cluelessness are you regurgitating this time?"

Hannah smiled at her sweetly. "Have you read the Daily Prophet recently? Someone you know had a special mention in Rita Skeeter's column."

"I don't read gossip, especially gossip yanked out of someone's arse," Blaise sighed narrowing her eyes.

"You don't know?" She blinked her large, dumb eyes. "But I suppose your folks didn't tell you. My mum always said they were a shifty duo."

Blaise stepped right up to Hannah as the kids shrank from her shadow. "Don't you _ever_ insult my family, Abbot. Unless you want to join Moaning Myrtle in the girl's toilet upstairs."

Hannah flipped a pigtail over her shoulder. "Before you make a bigger fool of yourself, Zabini, I suggest you shut up and read this." She shoved some parchment into her hand. Blaise twisted it in her hands. She had no idea what Abbot meant, but she had a feeling it wasn't good news. She reluctantly opened the parchment, ignored the front-page headline about some investigation at Gringotts, and turned to the gossip section.

ROGUE AUROR RETURNS AFTER 10-YEAR EXILE

A huge cover-up in the Ministry that dates back to December 21st, 1982 has been uncovered _writes Rita Skeeter. _

It involved the near-escape of You-Know-Who's right-hand man, **Sirius Black. Black was the horrible murderer of over a dozen muggles and the wizard Peter Pettigrew. _The Daily Prophet also has information pointing that Black was the front man for the Dark Lord's Death-Eaters, a group allegedly involved in the slayings of prominent families such as the McKinnon's, Prewett's, and Bone's. To this reporter's mind, any act made to release such a foul creature into the community should be sentenced with the most extreme punishment. _**

This was not the case on December 21st, 1982. An Auror masterminded Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban prison. Praise to the guards that caught this fiend. That Auror has since been banished from the mainland, masquerading as a law-abiding recluse, and that Auror is none other than **Rhonda Zabini**. 

Her exile ends December 21st of this year. Her defense was temporary insanity. But the fact that her son and daughter-in-law were questioned at one point concerning the Longbottom's, has this reporter of_ The Daily Prophet_ speculating that the Ministry reopen this case and sentence a steeper punishment to hearten the victims of this sinister Dark Wizard family. 

Rhonda Zabini almost managed the biggest double-cross since Black. But her influence and power might've made the court avert their gaze (former council leader Bartemis Crouch was unavailable for comment). Her return could mark the rebirth of a new Dark Era. If the Ministry will act, they must act now.

"Haven't you wondered why your Gran never that left that stupid island? She's a traitor."

Blaise threw the crumpled parchment at Hannah's face. "Go to hell."

"You would now that, Zabini!" Hannah called after Blaise stormed away. "Hell's where slime like your family belong!"

Blaise stumbled into the Entrance Hall. Her chest felt tight, her lips had gone numb. She really wanted to kill Abbot now. Was this a joke? Did the girl conspire with Malfoy or Skeeter to pull this one on her? No, Malfoy wouldn't trouble himself this much to get back at her.

She could only think of one person to talk to … Cedric. She knew he'd be on her side. He knew Oma. Oma loved him. Oma would never do anything that would hurt Susan's or Neville's family. Her folks would never betray anyone … 

She just stepped up to the Suit of Armor that led to the secret passageway of the Hufflepuff House. Someone suddenly grabbed Blaise's cloak sending her stumbling backwards to the wall.

"Oh no you don't," a 3rd year named Crystal Fowler hissed, jabbing Blaise's chest. "I saw that article on your family. We don't want your filth in our House. Besides, Bones read the article too. She's too upset to even talk about it."

Blaise batted the girl's hand away as more Hufflepuff's crowded around them.

"It's not true! You can't prove anything! My Oma would never-"

"Your family is the worst kind. Pretending to be nice, but really stabbing us in the back." Hannah scoffed. 

"You're the one who gossips about everyone, Abbot. You wouldn't know tact if it shagged you in the nostril!" Blaise blurted. The crowd closed in on her. She felt the same panic she had in St. Bridget's. 

 "Stop the delusion, Zabini. You're the bad egg here. You were never cut out for Hufflepuff or any other house. So stay away from us. You're a Slytherin. And you always will be." 

Blaise trembled with the same fury she felt when the Death-Eater stood over her. "I want to talk to Cedric! You have no right to-"

"Get out of here! Take your pureblood arse back to the dungeons where you belong!" Another girl yelled, scratching Blaise's cheek. Blaise pushed her away and pulled out her wand.

A sudden flash of green sparks lighted the corridor. "Back off her," a voice said quietly. The kids scrambled to the sides of the hall. Elle stepped forward.

"Stay out of this, Wood," Crystal snapped. "If Zabini wants to enter our house, we have every right to stop her."

Elle smiled at the girl. A smile that sharks would have. "Fight with her and you fight with Slytherin."

"The two of you can't fight us all, Wood. Besides, being the Head Girl, you should know magic isn't allowed in the halls."

"Look around you, Fowler," Elle yawned. "If you haven't noticed, everyone's heading for the platform. A little scuffle like this will go by unnoticed." She twirled her wand and winked at Blaise. "Zabini and I have the skills to kick all your arses and then some."

The Hufflepuffs exchanged uncertain glances when another Slytherin stumbled upon the stand off. 

"What've we here?" Malfoy sneered. He saw Elle, Blaise and about ten Hufflepuffs around them. To Blaise's surprise he pulled out his own wand and aimed it at a boy's heart. "I could use target practice," he smiled. 

Hannah's face grew pale, as did the others. They did outnumber the Slytherin's, but these three weren't the ones a wizard would want to duel with. 

"Just stay away from us, Zabini!" She stammered as she ducked behind the Suit of Armor. The rest followed, disappearing quickly before Blaise could get a hand on them. She turned to Elle and Malfoy. Both had smug expressions on their face.

"Thanks," Blaise said quietly. "You didn't have to …" Elle waved her hand.

"You've earned the House too many points for me to look the other way, Zabini," she drawled. Blaise stared at her feet. "But you're welcome. And I meant what I said. Know who your allies are, Blaise." She turned away, with her cloak billowing around her. 

Malfoy cleared his throat. Blaise approached him and extended her hand. "Thank you, Malfoy. You didn't have to but you did."  

"Wood's right, Zabini. We'll win the House Cup this year, no contest," he said. His voice sounded strained. He must have a hard time talking without saying something offensive. He stared keenly at Blaise. "Your folks … they didn't tell you anything, did you?"

Blaise bit her lip. "No," she finally said. "And all this time, I thought we were the good guys."

She waited for him to laugh at her. To mock her. Instead, he cursed under his breath.

"I bully my folks to tell me the truth," he said quietly. "I can't be a Malfoy not knowing exactly who I am … I hate NOT knowing. Because there's always someone around who'll spring the truth on you and use it to pull your strings. You have the right to know everything. Even the things you find shameful. Your folks owe you an explanation." He still hadn't released her hand.

"I have to ask, Malfoy … Is it … Is it true? I mean, your father would know since he …" She sighed, her wand trembled in her hand. 

Malfoy released her hand. "Come on, Zabini. It's not as bad as you may think. People change. Stop moping, or I'll try my Slug-Belch hex on you." He smiled when he said this. Suddenly, he didn't look so pinch-faced. He actually was sort of cute.

She grinned back, not knowing what effect it had on his senses. "Okay, I'll stop moping. You have a good holiday then, Malfoy. And … you can call me Blaise."

He flinched but nodded back warmly. "You too … Blaise. And the name's Draco."

He walked briskly down the corridor. Blaise watched him quietly. Dad was right … the children of Slytherin weren't their folks. They were capable of walking down a different road. Neither said it, but they had called a truce. Both working together to help their house. Maybe not through the same means, but both wanted the same thing … Respect.

Blaise smiled to herself. Draco Malfoy just upgraded himself to her _Safe for Now list.  _

She glanced back at the Suit of Armor. But was Susan really upset? Blaise decided to give her friends some time to digest this. But if Skeeter's article was true, it meant the Zabini's were Voldemort supporters. She'd have more in common with Draco and Pansy. It meant she really did belong in Slytherin. It meant … she was the bad guy. 

Right then … Blaise didn't care. She strutted down the corridor, holding her head high. She came to this school knowing every curse, every hex jinx, every hex to maim, torment, or vanquish someone. She learned for the soul reason to protect herself, her family, her loved ones. If that made her a Dark Wizard, then so be it. If that sorted her into Slytherin, so be it.

She sorely recalled the hateful things the kids said to her. Both in this school and in St. Bridget's. She'll never get her wish for anonymity. She'll never blend in the middle. But … Blaise didn't want that anymore. 

"We'll see who's filth," she mumbled to herself. "I'll seize that House Cup if it's the last thing I do. If people hate me now, I'll make them hate me more. I'll show them. I'll bloody show them all."

Whatever reservations Blaise had about her truce with Draco, they quickly dissolved when she saw him standing at the platform waiting to board the train back to their homes. 

"All right there, Blaise?" He asked as Crabbe and Goyle helped with her luggage. She nodded with a small smile. Pansy and Millicent greeted her shyly.

"I read that article Skeeter wrote," Millicent ventured. "She had no business exposing that. She's just causing a ruckus."

"Yeah, Blaise," Pansy said. "My father said Skeeter's desperate for a beat. The new reporter's killing her, like covering the Gringotts' story before she did, interviewing Fudge and Lockhart. Not many people read Skeeter's stuff nowadays."

"Thanks," Blaise smiled. "I have to talk to my family about it though. If it's true or not … what can I do, right? I can't disown them."

Millicent snickered. "You could threaten the buggers with it. Tell them you'll send your Gran after them. She'd have Black join in on the fun."

"That's pretty twisted, but not a bad idea," Blaise drawled. They continued talking. The girls bashed the Hufflepuff's, praised Draco and Elle, and vowed to earn more points for their house after their breaks. Blaise didn't bother looking around for Cedric or Susan. She still wanted them to have their space.

She joined her dorm mates in one cabin, while Draco went in the cabin next to theirs. The train had traveled about ten minutes when someone knocked on the door. Blaise opened it cautiously, but stepped aside when she saw who it was.

"Blaise!" Morag sniffed locking the other girl in a tight embrace. "Oh, it's just horrible what Skeeter did! I mean it's your _grandmother! There should be a law against cruelty to the elderly!"_

"There is one, stupid," Millicent snorted as Morag plopped herself on the seat next to Blaise. "Excuse me, MacDougal, but I don't think anyone invited you here." Morag rolled her eyes.

"Oh shut up, Mill. Stop pretending you don't know me. Or I swear on our old Aunt Gildy's grave, I'll chuck your Barbie dolls in our trash compactor."

Millicent's face paled as Blaise snickered into her robes. "You wouldn't _dare!_ You _promised you'd keep them safe!" Blaise's laughter grew louder as Pansy joined her. _

"Then stop pretending we're not cousins, you berk!" Morag crowed jumping onto Mill's lap and covering the Slytherin with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Millicent groaned but couldn't help snickering at her cousin's actions. 

"It's funny though," Pansy sighed, helping herself to a Chocolate Frog. "Morag wanted to be sorted into Slytherin but she got Ravenclaw, while you, Blaise, wanted to be sorted anywhere but Slytherin." 

"Well, I don't think that anymore," Blaise sighed. All three girls raised their brows at her. "I'm serious. So we don't make nice with everyone. Why should we? It's not like everyone's nice to us."

"She's gone over to the Dark Side," Millicent snickered. They all laughed.

"Well, considering whatever shady past my family has, I think I've been on it. I just didn't know." Blaise smirked. "But I tell you … Christmas dinner's going to be very interesting this year."   

Christmas Dinner at the Manor

Blaise stood beside a pillar waiting for Rusty. She had ducked out of sight as Susan and Cedric left the train. She really wanted to get home and talk to her family before facing anyone else. 

"Hey, Blaise!"

Draco came up to her and handed her a slip of paper. 

"It's my address," he said quickly. His face seemed a little pink. "If anyone can fix a press-related mess, my father can. He can also create one if you know what I mean. Send us an owl."

Blaise took the parchment. "Why are you doing this, Draco? I mean … we didn't get off on the right foot in the beginning." He shrugged.

"I can't choose my family, but I can choose my friends," he mumbled staring at the ground. "I didn't mean to snap at Bones on the train. And I didn't mean to make an enemy of you. I was just in a foul mood that day." He leaned on the pillar beside her. It looked like he had to wait for his ride as well.

"Can I ask what got you in a foul mood that day? We're talking about our first day at wizarding school. I was ready to burst."

"Well, it's nothing really. I … I sort of tried to make a friend out of Potter and he gave me the cold shoulder." His ears turned bright pink. Blaise found it attractive.

"Potter … snubbed you?" She wrinkled her nose. "Alright. What _exactly_ did you say?"

"Nothing," he snorted with a shrug. "He said he could make his own friends or something of that sort. Well, if he wants to stay friends with Weasley then I say let the arse be."

"Hmm … I didn't know Potter was such a snob," Blaise said aloud, though she had the feeling Draco didn't present himself as Mr. Congeniality. "But he does get himself into situations that draw attention to him."

"He's hungry for it. Acts like he's Saint Potter. Can't do anything wrong. Yet, he's just as big an idiot as Goyle or Crabbe can be."

Blaise glanced at him from the corner of his eye. She had the feeling that Harry stole some of Draco's thunder. She knew all about the charm of the Malfoy's. They were all about garnering as much power as they can, but they did it with a certain finesse. Something like … a Dark Wizard's Gentleman. She had a feeling that if Harry wasn't in Hogwarts, Draco would have a public profile similar to his. Except Draco would be known as the popular, charming, snotty pureblood.

"There's my driver," he said suddenly. A grim-looking man dressed in black approached them. He bowed before Draco and took his luggage. Draco turned to Blaise. 

"Have a happy Christmas, Blaise."

"You too, Draco. See you next year." She winked. He grinned and turned away.

"Ready to go, Blaise?" Rusty called from behind. Blaise took a deep breath and nodded. She followed the elf to their carriage. And they headed back to Creer Upon Libby. 

The table had been set. The finest china lay on the maroon velvet placemats. The silverware lined beside the blue-green china, along with greenish crystal goblets. Blaise sat to her father's right. She donned a black turtleneck sweater with a blue plaid skirt. Her parents dressed in their evening best as well. Oma sat on the other end of the table, with her green silk dress and a diamond-crusted tiara. Rusty sat beside Blaise. 

Blaise didn't want to bombard everyone with questions right away. But she did let it slip she read the article. To her relief, Oma acknowledged it. She said they'd talk about it during dessert. Blaise dove into her meal with more gusto after that. The tension melted away from her as her parents discussed their projects at work. 

Mama looked serene. For some reason, Blaise thought this was funny. He dad looked genuinely happy to be there. Oma looked ready to jump on the table and do the La Bamba. Blaise stared at her goblet. _I think Yulee poured me the wrong drink, she thought with a goofy smile on her face. Damn, she loved that elf. _

But her giddiness subsided by the time dessert was served. Her father cleared his throat as Vanessa pulled at her collar. 

"Blaise, you mentioned the article in the Daily Prophet. We want to talk to you about that." He sighed scratching the stubble on his chin. "You see, there's some truth to it. But there's plenty left out."

Blaise stared at her plate of cheesecake. "So … we are Voldemort supporters?" Oma cleared her throat. She lifted her eyes off her plate and smiled nervously at her grandmother.

"Blaise, what we will tell you now must never leave this table. There's a lot of responsibility with this information. Your parents initially objected to this, but I feel you're intelligent enough and capable of being discreet." Blaise nodded with widened eyes. Oma smiled. "But if you'd prefer a simpler truth-"

"I have a right to know everything," Blaise said quickly. Van took a long sip from her goblet. "I mean … I don't want some dodgy folk like Skeeter taking advantage of my ignorance."

"That is true," Papa mumbled. Mama nodded slowly. Blaise turned expectantly to Oma.

"Well, Blaise … the truth is I did try to help Sirius Black escape Azkaban. But I never served Voldemort."

Blaise frowned. "Why did you do it then?"

Oma sighed. "Sirius was my best friend, Divina's nephew. She didn't have any children and she doted on Sirius. She was killed with her husband by Voldemort and his minions," she said in a subdued voice. "When Sirius had been blamed for the Potter's deaths, I admit … I had a breakdown. Even though all the evidence seemed to point that Sirius was guilty, I had it stuck in my head he was innocent. He was good kid." She blew her nose on her napkin.

"A breakdown?" Blaise echoed.

"Rhonda went crazy," Rusty sighed. "Rusty tried to stop her, but Rhonda bind him."

"Padre convinced Crouch to let her off easy," Papa explained. "Crouch seemed to accept the explanation that everyone deals with grief differently. Either that or he had lost some steam after he sentenced his own son to death."

"Miserable man," Mama muttered, gesturing for a refill.

Blaise bit her lip. "Ma, Pa … What about Skeeter's allegations about you?"

"_That_ I wasn't pleased about," Oma said frowning down at her plate. Her parents exchanged glances. Mama looked exceptionally pale. 

Papa cleared his throat. "Blaise … the truth is … your mother and I spied-"

"You spied for Voldemort?!" Blaise gasped. It sounded okay to stomach in theory, but to hear it said aloud … in an actual voice. She felt ill. 

"We spied for the Order of the Phoenix," Papa finished. He smiled gently at the blank look on Blaise's face. "It was a group that worked against the Dark Lord."

"We pretended to be Voldemort's allies," Mama suddenly spoke. "We spied for him, gave him credible information approved by the Order to make us look legit. Your father supplied the Order with information about the activities abroad, while I had direct correspondence with several Death-Eaters. I had at one time masqueraded as a Death-Eater."

Vanessa bit her lip and took another sip from her goblet. She continued, "Your father and I were responsible for exposing many Death-Eaters. We gave the Aurors coordinates, tried to forewarn our allies as quickly as we could. We were the best spies in the Order. Then … a mole exposed us to Voldemort. We had to desist. And we became useless to both sides." 

Papa leaned forward in his chair. "You see, Blaise, our mission was to find who was the real spy against the Order. Find that spy before our cover was blown. But we weren't successful. Because of that, some people in the Order didn't trust us. Some suspected that we were the spies. We got little support from people. Only Padre's word kept us from persecution."

Vanessa stared at her hands. "Even though we could no longer leak information into the Order, we still – I still – wanted to help. I offered the Longbottom's to be their Secret-Keeper. It was the wrong thing to do. I failed worst of all." Papa reached for her hand.

"No, Van. Don't say it. It's not your fault." Van shook her head.

"Blaise … I did give information that harmed the Longbottom's. I told a group of Death-Eaters where they were. I revealed their hiding place." 

"Van, dear, stop blaming yourself." Oma sighed. She reached for Blaise's hand. "Sweetie, your parents are the most loyal and trustworthy people I know. These two people would rather die than sell out a friend. Vanessa was the Longbottom's Secret-Keeper, but the information had been … forced … out of her. She had only enough time to warn the Longbottom's what had happened. And Frank and Alice sent their son to Frank's mother's house. They had enough time to do that and that alone."

Blaise read the expression on Vanessa's face. She saw a swirl of emotions pass from rage, fear, and pain. She didn't have to imagine how the information had been forced out of her. She felt angry for her mum. Blaise saw the flash of the Death-Eater's perverse smile. She remembered Vanessa clawing at his face. And Blaise felt the frustration her mum harbored. She finally understood why that Death-Eater visited them that day.

"It's not your fault, Mama," Blaise said quietly.

"I'm never strong enough," her mum murmured. Blaise stared at her hands. 

"Can I ask something?" She began. "Papa, why do you still teach at Durmstang?" Everyone looked surprised at the question. Zon cleared his throat. He looked ready to give a lecture.

"Well … after Voldemort disappeared, I had been approached by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The Aurors needed me in weed out the rest of Voldemort's supporters, before any started their own campaign to wreak havoc to the community." He frowned. "Many who knew we were spies have either died or are in Azkaban now. What I do now is send profiles on potential troublemakers to the Ministries. Durmstang teaches their students Dark Magic to learn how to battle it. But I can't deny that there are students in that school who use that knowledge questionably."

"Can't you monitor these people from here?" She asked. 

"No. I'm the best man to have, Blaise. I speak several languages and I directly correspond to the Dark Force Defense Leagues on Madrid, Paris, London, and Berlin. Plus, there's no other member of the Order stationed in Durmstang. And the only other qualified member would be your mum."

"But Voldemort's gone now, right? The Order's not active anymore." 

"Blaise," Oma began bracingly. "You need to understand that the Order of the Phoenix is more than an organization that fought Voldemort. It's over a thousand years old. And it was created, some say, to vanquish the first Dark Lord, Salazar Slytherin. His symbol was the snake, a symbol of immortality and transformation. The story goes that when the other three founders vanquished Slytherin, he vowed his legacy would live on. He promised another like him would rise. In response to this, Gryffindor established the Order. The mission of the Order is to assist wizards in vanquishing the Dark Lord of their time."

"Dark Lord of their time?" Blaise wrinkled her brow. "You mean even if you defeat the Dark Lord, he keeps coming back?" Oma nodded. 

"Over fifty years ago, Dumbledore defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald. Dumbledore was also a member of the Order. After he defeated Grindelwald, he inherited the Order, became the leader. And the next wizard to vanquish the Dark Lord will inherit Order leadership and so on."

"But why does the Dark Lord keep coming back?"

"You can't get rid of all the evil in this world, sweetie. And evil is what all the Dark Lords thrive on. But there's always a balance. With each Dark Lord, there's a hero born to defeat that Dark Lord. That's why the Order of the Phoenix was created. The Phoenix is constantly reborn, a symbol of immortality and power. As long as there's a Dark Lord, the Order will be there."

"Who's the next Dark Lord then?" Blaise asked breathlessly. "Can I join the Order?"

Her father chuckled in spite of himself, while her mum looked ready to faint at the table. Oma took a long sip from her goblet. Rusty turned to Blaise and gave her the thumbs up sign. At least, one person seemed to think she was Order material.

Papa said, "As far as we know, Voldemort was the last Dark Lord. Usually a Dark Lord comes from a Purebred family. Voldemort was an exception because his ancestors were exceptional Dark Wizards. There are some Dark Wizards out there, but no one has exhibited the same power like Voldemort or the previous Dark Lords. And none are as keen."  

"Yes," Vanessa sighed. "I think it's safe to say that Harry Potter was our savior. He defeated the last of the great Dark lords. It came at a price, but this Calm has to be worth it."

"As for you joining the Order," Zon said carefully. "I think since your ma and I are members and Oma is 2nd Lieutenant, you already are an honorary member. But I honestly hope that there'll never be a reason to gather the old gang again."

"Yeah, I guess," Blaise sighed. She rubbed her neck tiredly.

"I hope this hasn't overwhelmed you, sweetie." Oma eyed Blaise closely.  

"No … actually it hasn't. I think everything you've told me is good news. I came to the table imagining we're the foulest of all beings. But we're not. We're a family of spies. Of secret-keepers. I said I wanted to know everything. And I'm glad I do now." Blaise smiled shyly at the adults. 

"Someone told me that being a Zabini meant I had no wizard pride. And I started to believe it for a while. Now I know what it really means to be in this family. And … I'm very proud."

Under the Oak Tree

The adults left to have a midnight cup of tea with Oma's friends. Rusty lingered in the back porch, smoking a pipe of Angelwort. Blaise wrapped her cloak tighter as she crossed the bridge over the frozen creek and ventured into the orchard. She passed several snow-capped pines until she reached a great Oak. The tree would normally have rich green leaves spread over it, providing a nice shady place for Blaise to rest. But the leaves had since shed leaving the tree bare save for the snow and ice covering its thick braches. 

Blaise brushed off some snow off a high branch and hopped onto it. She sat there holding a lantern Rusty charmed for her to spread warmth with its light. After the ice thawed around her, she stretched along a thick branch and used her cloak for a pillow. Her breath still came out it vapory puffs, but the lantern kept her comfortable.

She stared at the winter sky. She loved how it wasn't a complete black. She could see slight patches of midnight blue and burned indigo spanning above her, making the stars twinkle like the sparks from her wand. It helped her reflect on what she heard tonight and how it would play into her future.

Footsteps approached. She immediately pinched a bead in her fingers, although she doubted anyone sinister would get past Rusty. 

"Saw the light from my room," Cedric said climbing to a branch next to her. "You're up late." He opened a canister and the scent of cocoa crept to her nose. "Want some?"

"Of course," she said sitting up. "My folks went with Oma to visit some of her friends."

"She's happy to be back in the mainland then," Cedric said. They sipped quietly on their cocoa. Blaise didn't know how to explain things to him without giving away too much information. 

"I head what Fowler tried to do," he said suddenly. "I'm sorry about that. They didn't mess with you too much, did they?"

"No … I had back up." Blaise took another sip. Cedric did as well. After a couple more seconds, she swore loudly. "Aren't you going to ask me about that blasted article?!" He snorted into his mug.

"Blaise," he drawled out. "Don't you have any faith in me? I love Oma. I would never believe she'd do anything malicious. That's like saying Snape likes the color pink."

"_But_ …" She egged on. 

"Fine!" He sighed. "But I did ask my folks about it. Mum set me straight."

"Well … it's all good then." She sighed. 

"Susan will be fine, Blaise. What upset her was that Skeeter wrote such things about Oma. I mean anyone who knows your grandma knows how cool she is. My dad said Oma should sue her or something."

"Nah. It would only give Skeeter the attention she's badgering for."  

"Well, it's just a good thing that burglary at Gringotts is getting all the attention. Even if nothing was stolen." He bit his lip. "Blaise … I'm really worried about you. From what Oliver told me … my house mates said some pretty nasty things. If Elle hadn't stumbled upon you-"

"I would've killed them all," Blaise said evenly. Cedric looked taken aback.

"You don't mean that."

"Maybe I do. Cedric, Look. I have a temper. I'm bound to break one day. And sometimes that's all I want to do. I think to myself, if I hear one more bugger offend me or my family, I'll do it." Cedric looked hurt by her words, but she continued. "You and I have walked two very different paths. People _like you. They don't have to know you and they'll like you. But me, I studied in a school where the muggles hated me. And I went into Hogwarts with a house full of kids who hated me. And I'm so sick of it."_

"I know you are, Blaise. But not everything's a battle, you know? I talked to Fowler and she's promised to never-"

"I don't care about Fowler's promises, Ced. I don't bloody care what she thinks of me. I don't care if your whole fucking house hates me. I'm not going to change my reactions to them."

"Blaise, can you just keep your cool? Take the higher road?"

She snorted bitterly. "Cedric … I tried that once. You know, not reacting? Doing as I was told? It didn't get me to a happy place. No … I find fighting back more satisfying. I know what you're saying. And I know you're just looking out for me. But let's face it. I'm a Dark Wizard. And you know what? I'm proud of it. I'd rather be known for kicking arse than being a bloody saint for the masses. The masses have done nothing for me. My family is good people but they were scorned and judged like criminals. So fuck taking the higher road."

Cedric stared at her. She couldn't read his expression from the dim light. After a while he said, "I'm sorry. I never knew. I … Whatever makes you comfortable, Blaise. I wish I could do something. But it sounds like there's nothing I could really do to make this easier."

Blaise closed her eyes. "Cedric, you'd be doing me a big favor if you told your mates to stay away from me, or I'll make them stay away from me." She snorted. "Play with fire and they'll be burned."

He gave her a small smile. "Okay, Blaze." She pressed her hand gently on his shoulder and looked into his eyes, letting him know she had no hard feelings.

"You know … I really do like that name."  


	6. Never An Easy Win

Chapter Five: Never an Easy Win

Favoritism Blows

The rest of Blaise's 1st year at Hogwarts passed by with little incident. Well, except for a nasty rash she got before summer break. The girls suspected a quill Susan returned to Blaise had been laced with Pickleworm Sap. Blaise didn't want to believe her friend would dupe her at first, but Susan had been quite shirty since Christmas break. Blaise didn't have the venom in her to bite back though. Instead, she threw herself into her studies. The best vengeance she could think of would be flattening the whole lot of them when Slytherin takes the House cup for the 8th year in a row. 

As Blaise lead study groups in her house, the ire of the students transferred from her to Potter and his misfit friends. All the other houses scorned the Gryffindors for losing 150 points, since they all wanted Slytherin beaten. Well, if they wanted that so much, why didn't they get off their lazy arses and read a book for a change? But of course they don't. She saw them all as a bunch of slackers who expected others to do the dirty work. Worse yet, _these losers actually have the chutzpah to bitch when things don't go as planned. _

Urgh, she hated them. And the more she hated them, the more points she earned for Slytherin. But did her professors praise her? _Please_. Had anyone in the faculty noticed her skills surpassed everyone in class? _Oh, hell no. Everyone was too busy falling over themselves praising Granger or drooling over Potter. One would think they're the next best thing since bottomless drinks. But since Blaise came from a notorious wizard family, her talent was no surprise. _

It was a joke. The love for Gryffindor was a bloody joke. Slytherin won the House Cup every year because _they bloody earned it. They took their knowledge seriously. They were proud of their wizardry. It's not their problem the other houses couldn't compete … __Oh, what's the use. _

All of Blaise's hard work went unnoticed and unrewarded. Just when she thought her house won the cup (and she'd finally win respect from her peers) along comes Dumbledore. 

At first, Blaise thought the antidote she took for her rash had gone straight to her head. Because there was no way, Gryffindor could earn enough points to tie even with them. Her shock turned to disgust when the beloved wizard turned the green banners floating around the Great Hall to scarlet. She refused to look at him after that. Instead, she sulked at her table with her classmates, scratching angrily at the rashes on her hands and neck. 

Not only did **Dumb-ledore reward Potter for his belligerent nosiness, the Headmaster dumped ten points on Neville's head for – _get this – bravery?! What's so bloody valiant about selling out your friends?! Neville was all about saving his own arse. _**

If standing against one's friends was so bloody noble, why were her folks at the bottom of the totem pole? Dumbledore was the leader of the Order, why didn't he help her folks image? Well, he answered that for her. He was just like every other bigot in this school, in this world. And all this time … Blaise thought he was a friend. 

She finally understood why her father had grown aloof to the wizard. Zon and Van had risked their lives for the Order yet Papa's still stuck serving an ungrateful Ministry. Ma's still a slave to her job and a slave to her paranoia. And Blaise lost both of them because they couldn't keep her safe on their own. 

"Better luck next time, Snakeface!" Someone crowed from a different table. Draco gave the person the two-finger salute.

As far as she was concerned, Slytherin won that cup. She managed the impossible: helped Crabbe and Goyle pass their classes _and_ earn points for the house. Potter just wandered about the grounds after curfew. But that's cool because he's Harry Sodding Potter: The Sweet Fanny Adams of Gryffindor. 

But there was no one to complain to, and if she did complain, she'd look like a schmuck. Even Snape could only sulk at the faculty table. 

"This's bullshit!" Blaise hissed rising from her seat. She walked out of the Great Hall and stomped back to the Slytherin dorm. She threw her hat into the fireplace and cursed loudly.

"Exactly," someone said from an armchair. Elle stood and walked over to Blaise. 

"We didn't get the cup," Blaise said jerkily pulling at her hair. She wanted to break something. Elle exhaled slowly.

"I saw it coming frankly. Potter's affected everyone. I hate to tell you this, but I think Gryffindor's going to have a seven-year winning streak."

"But that's not fair!" Blaise sputtered. "I worked so hard! I did extra credit! I tutored my classmates. I earned so many points. I thought … I thought-"

"It'd earn you respect?" Elle hinted quietly. Blaise nodded sadly. "You know, Blaise, I see a lot of myself in you. Just like me, you learned nothing's fair the hard way. You just have to know that … deep in your heart … you didn't fail yourself."

Blaise sighed. "I guess."

"Hey, if it helps, you earned my respect." Elle shrugged. "Just imagine: In the real world, there's no professor who'll stand up and give you your props. There's no one who'll point out your achievements. You have to do that yourself. And that's where these Gryffindors will fail. You don't learn anything from an easy win." She patted Blaise on the shoulder. 

"Thanks, Elle," Blaise said with a smile. "I'm going to miss you … I think." Elle chuckled. 

"I'm leaving you in charge of this house, Blaise. You know … I want to give you something," Elle mumbled and pulled out a long red sash from her cloak. She handed it to Blaise.

"I can't take this, Elle," she began. The Head Girl scoffed lightly.

"It's not even mine. I found it tucked behind the fireplace mantle. It had been there for a while. I found it handy in my years here, though I don't think I figured exactly how it works. I think some student left it behind years ago. Or maybe intentionally left it for someone to pass on."

Blaise examined the sash. Its red sateen shimmered under the light flowing from the windows. Gold thread had been embroidered along the edge. 

"It's some cheesy, sentimental crap. I forget," Elle said eying the embroidery as well. "You can always examine it at your leisure. It's the properties that are wicked." She patted Blaise on the back. "Take care of my Alma Mater, will you, Blaise?"

"I will, Elle." 

She watched the Head Girl walk towards the door, carrying the last of her luggage. Elle paused by the door and swerved back slowly.

"You know what the beauty of being in this house is?" She asked with a lazy smile on her lips. "It's the fact that, once you leave these walls, no matter what path you choose you're still a Slytherin. You can be a hippogriff poacher, a housewife, an Auror, or the incarnation of Evil Itself. This house won't disown you. That's the beauty of Slytherin. Any achievement is a feat. Tell that to the Ravenclaw who winds up selling dragon scrotum in Knockturn Alley." She tilted her hat to Blaise and continued through the door.

And after a year of catfights, detentions, double essays, and dismissed achievements; Blaise Zabini finally broke into a smile.

Twelfth Summer

Oma tried to make light of the situation, but Blaise wasn't in the mood to hear it. Oma had invited her to the island during summer break, but Blaise opted to stay in Creer Upon Libby. She rarely stayed at the manor though. Her new friends invited her to their homes. She especially took to Morag's comely home in Salisbury, just a ways off from Stonehenge. Millicent often went to Morag's home too. 

Blaise also spent some time in London with Hong. Like Blaise, she left the island. She lived now with Junko in a loft by their store. The two girls spent a week together, helping in the boutique and venturing into Diagon Alley. It was in Diagon Alley where Blaise bumped into Malfoy. He barely said a word to her. His father didn't look too happy to see her either. The encounter left her suspecting the truce with Malfoy had ended. Either that, or Draco didn't want his father to think he was friendly with a Zabini. 

Before going back to Hogwarts, Blaise turned twelve. She threw no party, preferring to spend the whole day under the shade of her Oak tree while Cedric practiced his secret Seeker moves. She got a card from Morag and Susan, who was on vacation with her cousin in Australia. Blaise hadn't gotten around to telling her dorm mates her birthday. Those details just never entered the conversation. 

This had to be the first birthday Blaise experienced without Susan in the whole eight years she knew her. Susan didn't seem to hold anything against Blaise. Well, that's what she told her in the card. But Blaise would've preferred a misunderstanding to this. Because if Susan didn't hold anything against Blaise then the only other reason for their strained friendship would be:  They're growing apart. 

They could fix a misunderstanding with an apology. Growing apart felt much more permanent. Irreversible. Blaise knew it would happen the moment the Sorting Hat yelled Slytherin. Susan can't hold out from her dorm mates forever, just like Blaise couldn't. They'll make new friends. They'll adapt. And forget each other along the way. That's how it is. 

But it's still a pain to admit it and watch it happen right in one's face. 

Turning twelve was also a pain, being an age where the first signs of puberty usually showed. She scowled staring at herself in the mirror. In her opinion, all she needed was a penis and she'd pass for a boy. She wished she was sometimes. Boys didn't have to wear training bras or go through the embarrassment of … _monthly visitors_. Pretty soon, she'd have to shave various parts of her body, pop unsightly pimples, and basically kiss her tomboy ways forever. She hated it. She envied Cedric. 

Cedric had mentioned the Weasley's had Potter visiting the Burrow. However, Cedric didn't drop by to say hello. He knew Blaise didn't think much of the Boy Who Lived, so he knew better than provoke her with such a touchy subject. He spent his summer with Shawn and the rest of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. She wished she could fly with them, drink butterbeer in the orchard, fart and burp without anyone telling her it's unladylike. 

Staring at her reflection, she suddenly remembered Potter. Well, just his _scar. His eyes, nose, and lips came afterwards. At first, Blaise couldn't decide what she thought of him. She summed him up as skinny, quiet, not too quick in the brain department, and temperamental. She had thought that he was okay. At least, a bit more pleasant than Malfoy._

But now she referred to him as The Boy Who Stole Her Glory. Dumbledore's pet. Potter could set a werewolf loose on Hogwarts and Dumbledore would still think the world of him. Draco already told her Potter helped smuggle a dragon in (or was it out?) the school. Well, Blaise didn't quite believe that one. Draco had a flare for drama. 

Blaise groaned. Her thoughts jumped from Potter to Malfoy. What a selection. What's wrong with her? Pooter was a creep. Malfoy was a brat. Haha. Did she just call Potter, _Pooter_? She snorted loudly. _Pooter_ sounded familiar. He's probably been called that before. 

Now why would she think that? Blaise shook her head in disgust. 

"Stop it, Zabini. You're only twelve years old. You got about ten more years before you obsess about boys," she mumbled to herself. The mirror laughed back at her. 

Mama knocked on her door. "Sweetie, let's go or we'll miss your train!"

Blaise didn't get around to examining the sash Elle gave her, so she   stuffed that in her pocket. After a last glance around the room, she jogged out of the house. 

Her father had hailed the Knight Bus. It was a deep purple, stacked automobile contraption. Her trunk and Zephyr were already tucked away. Van kissed her quickly on the cheek and pulled her to her dad. As Blaise approached him, she had a sense of déjà vu seeing Papa standing by the bus. 

"Hurry, Blaise. Just go to the back like last time. I'm going to say bye to your mum," Papa said helping Blaise step into the bus. 

_Like last time? But this was the first time she ever rode on the Knight Bus. Usually they'd commute to the station by carriage or the Travlas Orbs. __Maybe Papa just jumbled his English again, she mused and sat in the very back._

Blaise drifted into a short nap on the way to the train station. She had a dream about playground swings, broken watches, and pink cows. In the dream, she brushed away some vines from a pool of black water. Something glowed at the basin and Blaise dipped her head into the water. That's when a crackling flash of green light jolted her awake.  

"We're here," Papa said shaking her shoulder. 

She stifled a yawn as she boarded the Hogwarts Express. Groggily she waved to Papa from the window. He smiled back then left in a _pop!_ He, too, was also late for his commute to Durmstang. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, wondering what made her have such an odd dream.

The Other Redhead

Since Blaise wasn't in the mood to speak to the Weasley's, she had forgotten all about Ginny Weasley, the youngest. Well, until said person knocked on her cabin door.

At first, Blaise thought the red head belonged to Susan or Morag, either one she'd be happy to see. She didn't recognize the girl initially, and judging from Ginny's expression she didn't recognize Blaise either.

"Uh, hi," Ginny said. "I was just looking for my brother. I didn't mean to-"

"Which one?" Blaise asked after she identified the Weasley shade of red. "You're Ginny, right?"

"Uh, yeah," she replied. "And I'm looking for my brother Ron. He should be sharing a cabin with Harry Potter." 

Why is it when people have to say his name it's always with that excessive drum roll, angels with trumpets, flying pigs: **_*!HARRY POTTER!*_** As if it's a statement on its own?! Blaise assumed people said it for that gasp factor. So was she supposed to gasp now and fall over herself to get on Ginny's good side?

"Well, I haven't seen Ron or his friend since last term. Sorry," Blaise said with a shrug. Ginny nodded curtly and began to back out of the cabin. Someone from the hall bumped into her, and a book popped out of her bag. It slid over to Blaise's feet. 

"Opps! I'm so sorry!" Blaise heard Morag say. Ginny mumbled a reply and continued out the hall. Groaning, Blaise picked up the book as Morag peeked inside.

"Hey, Blaise!"

"Hey, Morag. Can you call Ginny back? She dropped her book." Blaise turned it in her hands. 

"Ginny who?"

"The redhead you almost plowed over," she replied yawning. Blaise read the name etched on the book's cover, _Tom Marvolo Riddle. That named sounded slightly familiar, but what threw Blaise off was that Ginny had some boy's journal. _

Ginny ran back to their cabin. Her eyes widened when Blaise held up the journal. 

"You dropped-"

"That's mine!" Ginny gasped and grabbed the book from Blaise's hand. She hugged the journal to her chest. "You should keep your nose out of other people's journals." The sneer she gave Blaise made the Slytherin's blood boil. 

"I didn't read the bloody thing," Blaise snapped. "Next time don't carry anything if you're just going to drop it everywhere, you spacky berk."

Ginny turned away in a huff. Morag closed the door behind her and rolled her eyes.

"What a snot!" Morag sputtered. "She should be grateful she dropped that stupid book in _your cabin! If it was up to Mill, she would've torn out pages and passed them around to all the boys she knew."_

"I'll keep that in mind next time," Blaise said grittily.

It seemed like neither girl remembered the days when they attended each other's birthdays. Whatever the cause, Ginny Weasley didn't give Blaise a good impression. And Blaise's opinion of the girl didn't get any better.

It started during the Halloween Feast. Blaise wanted to go to the Great Hall but the staircase shifted on her. She tried to go back but it shifted again leaving her stranded on the 2nd floor. She had no choice but to circle around the whole floor to get to another staircase. On her way, she bumped into Ginny. 

Blaise smiled at the girl, not really in the mood to act defensive. "Hey, Ginny. I wouldn't go that way, the staircase is gone."

"I don't need a damn staircase," Ginny snapped in a husky voice. Blaise backed away narrowing her eyes. 

"I don't know why I even bother," she sighed. Suddenly, Ginny grabbed her robes. 

"You're a Slytherin?" She demanded eying the snake insignia on her robes.

"Last time I checked … yes."

"The staircase is back here then."

"I just told you it left."

"Look. Just come with me."

Blaise had enough. "No, _you look, Weasley. You've a lot of nerve bossing me around. I'm going where I bloody please. And if you tell me one more time what to do, I'm hexing you back to your mother's womb!"_

Ginny stepped back and grinned back at her. The smile threw the Slytherin off, reminding her of Elle's smile before she hissed a curse. Without another word, Ginny turned away and continued down the corridor. 

Blaise snorted to herself. She used to think Ginny was okay. But Morag was right. She's a snot! Blaise stormed down the opposite way of the corridor. So much for thinking she'd have a good week. At least, it had started good …  

***

Just a few days before Halloween, Blaise had had her first actual run-in with Harry What's-his-face. It happened during a stormy Saturday afternoon. He had just finished his Quidditch practice, judging from his drenched scarlet robes and muddy trainers. His shoes squished by several Slytherins as he made for the Gryffindor Tower. Blaise was the single girl in the group. 

When the other boys saw who was approaching, they couldn't resist. Before she knew it, Harry stumbled right for her. She had no choice but to brace them both in her arms. His scent of grass and rain mixed with her crisp perfume (a gift from Hong), making Blaise a little light-headed. 

Harry's face burned as he glanced up at the girl holding him. Quite embarrassed herself, Blaise abruptly released him, leaving Harry to slip away. He managed one last glance before he ducked into a deserted corridor. 

"You should've let him fall, Zabini." Avery and the other boys glared at her. 

"I'll do whatever I see fit." She strutted away from them, ignoring the pounding in her chest. Okay, aside from Cedric, that's the closest she came to hugging a boy. _And it was gross_, Blaise told herself. She smelled of grass. Mud's on her robes. Her sleeves especially are all wet. It's as if she had been licked by a Saint Bernard.

She went back to the dorm to change; humming Depeche Mode's _Somebody_ the whole way.

***

Blaise shook the memory of Potter from her head. She looked forward to watch their Quidditch team slaughter the rest of them. With the new brooms, hopefully Slytherin would concentrate more on technique than on sabotage. The other houses considered them as cheaters. But Blaise reckoned if they had the money, they'd buy new brooms for their teams too, in a bloody heartbeat. 

_They all make me so sick, she thought grimly. _Who are _they__ to judge? They're not saints. As if they've never__ wanted anything for themselves. But they make us the scapegoats for their own guilty pleasures. I hate it. I just wish they'd all bugger off._

Still seething, she rounded the corner to find Mrs. Norris blinking up at her. Blaise had never met an animal that didn't like her … Except this putrid fur ball. The cat curved its spine and swished its frizzy tail. 

_Master … punish them all … Blaise heard the cat's inner voice hissed. _

"Shit!" Blaise groaned. She dodged the water on the floor, and considered hiding in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. But Mrs. Norris perched herself on the light sconce and hissed. A hulking shadow coursed along the wall dimming the whole corridor. _Damn, it's Filch!_ The caretaker and his cat had Blaise trapped on both ends. She turned away from the bathroom and scrambled for another door that she hadn't seen earlier.

"Please, please, get me out of here," she whispered as she twisted the knob. She stumbled through the door just as Mrs. Norris yowled outside. Blaise closed her eyes in relief and leaned against the door. Instead, she fell right on her back.

She found herself staring up at the black, foggy October sky. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she slowly sat herself from the ground. Taking a quick look around her, Blaise found herself in the midst of the Forbidden Forest. 

The Handy Sash

"When I said, _Get__ me out of here, you didn't have to take it literally!" She hissed to no one in particular. Fumbling her way in the pitch black, Blaise hopped cautiously over the stones and bulging roots. "Oh, shit, shit, shit. ACK! Shit." She groaned._

Something growled not too far away. Blaise stiffened and reached for her wand. 

"This's not good," she sighed. Again, she cursed Weasley in her mind. If the girl simply said, _Hey, Blaise, Filch's cat's over there so it's better to go _this_ way, then Blaise wouldn't be in this situation. Ha, who was she kidding? She wouldn't do anything Ginny Weasley said to save her life._

"Point me," she directed her wand. She followed its subtle glow slowly. She didn't want to attract the attention of the mystery growler. She'd heard all sorts of nasties lived in the forest. Malfoy swore he saw a vampire kill a unicorn once. Blaise had to believe that one, because she doubted Malfoy would be creative enough to imagine a unicorn slaughter.

The evening breeze made her shiver. She should be in the Great Hall up to her eyebrows in fudge and pumpkin pie. Instead, she had just a dimly lit wand, muddy combat boots, and a thin knitted sweater. Her lips trembled numbly. She shoved her right hand into her pocket to keep it warm. And, for some strange reason, her pocket _was_ warm. She pulled out her hand to find it wrapped in the red sash. 

Blaise pulled the sash off her hand and shook it loose. The sash magically widened, letting her tie it snugly around her neck. It draped over her shoulders like a cape. The warmth brought new life to her stiff limbs. Feeling comfortable now, she trudged on through the forest following her wand's point.  

She walked in the dark for several minutes, not sensing the castle anywhere close. The forest grew eerily quiet leaving only the sound of Blaise's feet crunching against the grass. She knew the forest expanded acres around her, but she had begun to feel claustrophobic. 

The trees leaned in too close to her even the crickets fell silent. Moonlight seeped faintly through the foliage basking the forest in a cold bluish green, while the darkness bled through the fog. The shadows casted grim expressions on the trees, like the disfigured masks of the theatre. Every minute or so, she'd hear a twig snap in the distance. A cold sweat dotted across her lips. But she walked on, telling herself there were worse situations to endure.  

Suddenly, she heard a soft crooning from behind a wall of vines. It sounded like there was a creek behind the vines too. She must be near the lake. She split the vines with a Diffindo spell and hopped through. 

Blaise found herself staring into the bulging blue eyes of a man … with blood dribbling from his chin. He had been eating the sides of a warthog. She grimaced. The creek she thought she heard was actually the man lapping the blood. The face snarled at her showing rows of razor-sharp teeth. She first thought he was some kind of savage wolf troll, until she saw the rest of him.

He had the torso and front legs of a lion. Its claws dug deeply into the slain hog's side as the beast leaned forward. Blaise had to call it a beast, because the man's expression twisted grotesquely distorting the human features. It snarled at her raising its scaly scorpion tail above its head. When she saw the giant stinger, she realised the beast was a Manticore. 

Her throat seized inside her. Blaise edged back slowly as the Manticore growled at her, foaming soapy red saliva at the mouth. She knew no charms that could subdue the creature since its skin repelled almost all known spells. Her eyes darted to the beast's sharp black claws to its stinger. One sting from that would cause instant death. 

Her stomach turned when she realised her wand was useless. She had to make a run for it. She pinched a bead off her belt, rubbing it nervously in her fingers as the Manticore stalked closer to her. It sniffed the air tracking her scent. Blaise cursed herself for wearing perfume. The one bloody time she decides to be girly-girl and this's where it gets her. 

Suddenly, the beast leapt into the air. Blaise flung the bead meeting it halfway and snapped her fingers. The bead exploded in the Manticore's face blinding it. It landed awkwardly on its forelegs as Blaise ran frantically through the forest. 

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she jumped over the tree stumps and boulders. The Manticore chased after her roaring after each tree it crushed. Blaise flung more beads over her shoulders, but the Manticore simply gained more momentum. She ran towards the moon, hoping it'd take her to the lake.

Suddenly, she slipped down a ravine and found herself knee deep in a bubbly stream. Splashing through the water with the Manticore close behind, she followed the brook until it ended in a steep drop. The waterfall led right into the Hogwarts Lake. But only sharp rocks waited below, the water too shallow for her to survive the jump. 

With a shudder, Blaise faced the Manticore. And before she could reach for another bead, the stinger struck her shoulder. It pushed her under the brook. The water rushed into her lungs. She twisted against the pressure and managed to swim to the edge when the Manticore lifted its tail. 

She leaned against a boulder, trying not to cough. The Manticore splashed in the water searching for her body. Blaise patted her shoulder, pinched her cheeks. She could still feel. She was still alive. Suddenly, the Manticore swerved and rounded its gaze on her. She rolled away just as the stinger plowed into the ground. Immediately the grass and ivy shriveled into dust. This gave Blaise an idea. 

As the Manticore struggled to wedge itself free, Blaise stumbled over the uprooted and dismembered trees it had charged past. She found a sturdy branch and clutched it tightly in her left hand. The Manticore finally yanked its stinger free and pivoted towards Blaise. 

"_Auri__ clava," she whispered transforming the branch into a golden club. The creature aimed its tail again. It lashed out just as she swung the club. The impact walloped the stinger straight into the Manticore's own eye. _

Howling, it sunk to the ground. It thrashed weakly as it burned into a statue of solid ash. Blaise dropped to her knees, shivering from the ordeal. With a sigh from her lips, the ashes blew away leaving no trace of the beast.

Pity swept over her. Manticores were rare creatures. They were dangerous, but there's some beauty in that mixture of man, lion, and scorpion. What if that was the last one on this Earth? She blamed herself for its abrupt end. If she only listened to – No. That Manticore would've killed her – But that's its bloody instinct! Blaise shook her head angrily. She had to stop thinking like this.

She turned her attention to her shoulder. It felt tender, so it definitely struck her. So why was she alive? She used her wand to light the spot and she saw the red sash/cloak had actually shielded her. The only trace of the Manticore's sting was a large, violet bruise. But the skin hadn't been broken. The only bloodshed came from scratches the thorns gave her as she had scrambled through the forest.

"Unbelievable," she murmured. This flimsy, satiny thing saved her life?! She made a mental note to truly sit down and study this magical fabric. Maybe the tiny embroidery was more than a sentimental musing. In the meantime, she had to get out of this place.  

She tiptoed to the edge of the cliff. She saw the dock where she boarded in 1st year, but no boats. She'll just have to resort to hitching a ride from a Kappa or a Squid.

"Too bad I can't fly a broom," she mumbled eying the twigs strewn around her feet. The red sash stirred on her shoulders. Blaise unclasped it and it stretched itself on the ground. It levitated several inches beside Blaise. She slid onto it and the red sash/carpet soared over the lake dodging the waves and the spritzes from the aquatic plants.

Blaise landed at the front of the castle's steps as the red sash curled back around her waist. Looking up at the huge doors, bitterness suddenly swept her. Something told her she wouldn't be awarded 60 bloody points for slaying an otherwise invincible beast. No trumpets would greet her at the door, no green flags flying over the Great Hall's ceiling.

"Whatever," she sighed and pushed the doors open.

The house elves already cleaned the Great Hall to her dismay. So not only was she nearly killed, but she had missed the Halloween Feast as well. Blaise dragged herself back to her dorm. She cursed loudly when the staircase swerved on her again. She trudged a couple of steps down the new floor when she heard voices come from a supposedly empty classroom. 

"Do you think I should have told them about that voice I heard?"

"No. Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."

_Potter and Weasley_, Blaise acknowledged. What they heck are they up to now? Unlike Draco, she didn't ruddy care frankly. But what Ron said annoyed her. She shuffled quietly past the door when Potter spoke again. 

"The whole thing's weird. What was that writing on the wall about? _The Chamber Has Been Opened_ … What's that supposed to mean?"

Blaise's eyes widened. Did they mean the Chamber of Secrets? She walked briskly down the corridor, _Oma mentioned someone died from that but it was never proven_ … Suddenly her watch chimed. Blaise covered it with her hand as the door from the classroom opened. She ran back to her dorm before Potter or Weasley could see her.

"Blaise! Where the devil have you been?" Millicent demanded pulling Blaise into their room. She choked when she saw Morag sitting on her bed.

"Morag?! What are you doing in our dorm?" She stammered.

"Safety precautions," Millicent mumbled. "Don't tell the other years. It's just … the Heir of Slytherin would take care of his own, right? I mean … Morag's as much a pureblood as the rest of us, right?"

Blaise stared at each of her dorm mates. Pansy sat on the edge of her bed biting her nails while Millicent paced a hole in the rug. Her other two dorm mates, Daphne and Katrina, huddled on the bench by the window. Everyone had pale expressions as they talked over each other.

"Of course," Blaise assured them, forgetting her ordeal at the forest. "The Heir wouldn't hurt anyone in this house, even you, Morag. From now on, you're an honorary Slytherin. If anyone argues with that, tell them to speak with me." 

"Blaise, you still didn't tell us where you've been," Mill said eying the twigs and spiders tangled in her hair.

"Oh, I just fell asleep by the lake." She sighed tiredly as Morag pulled a leaf from her mane. 

"In this cold?"

"I had a warm cloak." Blaise shrugged, combing the junk out of her hair. She changed into her sleepwear as the girls talked over the night's events. It alarmed Blaise to hear Mrs. Norris had been attacked in the very corridor she had escaped. But she didn't have the energy to analyze it tonight.

"I wonder who the Heir is," Pansy said shivering in her gown. "Do you think it's someone in this house?" They all glanced at each other. "It said Enemies of the Heir, Beware. Not Mudbloods or Muggleborns, but enemies in general. So how are we safe?"

"At least, you're purebloods," Morag sniffed. "My blood's all mixed. I … I hope I'm not next." 

Blaise bit her lip. "You all are safe. Pureblood or not. The Heir won't harm us. I promise." She suddenly yawned. She placed the earmuffs on her head to block out the rest of Mill's banter. The rest of the girls did the same. Millicent rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, people. My snoring's not _that loud."_

"Sure it isn't," Morag snickered as she threw the covers over her head.    

Blaise fingered the sash tied along her waist. It seemed stupid to promise their safety, but as she had said it, she really did believe it.

*********** 

Thanks for all the reviews and to everyone who joined the group. I'm happy to say that the next chapters will be about Blaise the teenager. I appreciate the honesty in your opinions. The backstory still ties into the original plot. I think the only dramatic changes were I changed Blaise's father's name to avoid confusion and Morag's sorting.  


	7. Unexpected

Chapter Six: Unexpected

About a Girl

Blaise gasped for air as she fluttered her eyes open. A heavy weight pressed on her chest. A pair of pale green eyes smiled down at her and giggled.

"Geroffme, Morag. It's too early for this," she mumbled turning over in her comforter. Millicent squawked five minutes later.

"Get up! It's our first Hogsmeade weekend! UP!" Morag sang as she bounced on Mill's bed. She suddenly let out a shrill yelp.

Pansy snuggled back in her covers while Morag picked up the pillow she had hurled at her. "Remind me again why Morag's in our room?" She sighed.

"Honorary Slytherin," Millicent said dismally. Morag, meanwhile, had drawn the shades letting the sunlight blast through the room, including the covers of her three friends.

"Who the hell thought of that?"

"My bad," Blaise groaned trying to keep the sun out of her eyes. "Not that she needs the protection anymore. Has it been a year already?"

"Apparently. Morag get off my head."

"HOGSMEADE, PEOPLE! Haven't any of you listened to me?!"

"Who gave her the password? I swear I haven't slept-in on a Saturday since."

"My bad again." Blaise sat up with a yawn. Stretching luxuriously, she oozed out of her bed and checked her calendar. She then whooped, "Hey, it's our first Hogsmeade weekend, girls!" 

"No way! Is it really?" Pansy squeaked jumping out of her bed. She danced around in her jimjams. "Oh my god! I almost slept-in today too!"

"Honeydukes, Honeydukes, Honeydukes," Millicent sang as she chacha-ed to the showers. Morag thumbed her nose at them as she plopped on Blaise's bed.

"We kid because we love, Morag," Blaise grinned.

Soon the four girls stood in line as Filch checked off names from his clipboard. Several boys stared avidly at the group as Pansy tossed her hair off her shoulder and waved. Blaise tucked a long lock of hair behind her ear, smirking at something Millicent said. One of the boys walked right into the wall. 

Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around and crossed her eyes at Cedric in greeting. He snickered and ruffled her hair. 

"Dammit, Ced, I just combed this," she sighed hastily flattening it back on her head. He threw an arm over her shoulder and guided her past Filch who checked off their names in a loud scratch.

"So where're you planning to go? Honeydukes? Zonko's? Or straight to the butterbeer kegs?"

Blaise grinned. "We're having a drink first. We've been told the whole Hogsmeade experience is ten times better when you're shit-faced."

"Freaking lush." He snorted. "Well, just so you know, we'll be in Zonko's." He paused as a pretty, Asian girl passed in front of them. She smiled at Cedric and giggled with her friends. He blushed while Blaise narrowed her eyes menacingly.

She didn't fancy Cedric like most girls in Hogwarts, but it bothered Blaise just the same. No one seemed good enough. They were too ditzy, too vain, or too easy. Either that or Blaise had hexed them.

Cedric changed since the train ride back to school. Morag often caught him lingering around the corridor heading to the Ravenclaw house. Blaise missed the old Cedric. The one who belched around her, laughed at lewd jokes, played _Hey, Jude_ on his armpit. But ever since he got his Prefect's badge, he's been playing it straight. Worse yet, he's playing straight and liking … girls. 

"I suppose you're going to have a drink too with _friends_," she said grittily shooting daggers at the girl's head. 

"Lighten up, Blaise. My friends aren't all bad."

"Like that's a good thing."

Cedric smirked. "And your point is …?"

"Don't start, Cedric. If you're just going to pester me today, I suggest you piss off while you still have your balls."

"Geez, Blaise. You're in prissy mode already? Have some breakfast first at least."

"It's not like anyone expects me to be anything else," she muttered blasting a pebble off her path.  

"Well, you're not really trying to get along with anybody now, are you?" He retorted.

By her third year, Blaise Zabini had established a reputation. She had proved quite an adversary in the dueling club last year, successfully hexing anything that could bleed and scream. But her skills had been overshadowed when Potter decided to _chat up a freaking snake. _

Speaking of Scarhead, he went and did it again. It just HAD to be a sodding Basilisk, now didn't it?! Not a flobberworm or a rogue spitball, but a 2000-kilo reptile that's not supposed to exist. Her Manticore looked like a deformed kitten next to it. No one would believe her anyway, since her beast conveniently shriveled into dust while Potter's monster still rotted somewhere in the castle's plumbing. 

Cedric squeezed her shoulder, taking her back to the present. "Blaise, I was joking." She shrugged, masking her annoyance.

"Whatever. I'll see you when I get there." She followed her friends into a carriage. Cedric watched her depart, scratching his head.

"Draco! Over here!" Pansy called waving out the carriage window. "We saved a seat for you!"

"No, we didn't!" Blaise howled loudly, pulling at Pansy's skirt. "We are NOT riding with that fecker!"

"Yes, we are," Pansy sniffed. "And if you don't like it, you can ride with someone else." 

Blaise groaned. She and Pansy never saw eye to eye when it came to Malfoy. She knew her friend adored the blond heathen. Pansy fussed over him even more since the Hippogriff incident, an incident Blaise thought was entirely Malfoy's fault. Even though she found it annoying that Potter was involved in some fashion.

"Fine. I'll see you guys at the Three Broomsticks," she mumbled hopping off the carriage.

She shuffled over to several carriages. She saw Susan get on one but she didn't bother joining. Their friendship had reduced to cards and the occasional hello in the halls. 

She hopped into an empty carriage and scooted over to the window. A few minutes later, the door swung open.

"Oy, Ron! There's one over here!" She hopped in before she saw Blaise. "Oh! I'm sorry. Is it okay?"

"Sure, Granger. It's just me." Blaise shrugged. Hermione sat down just as Ron Weasley hopped quickly inside. It suddenly dawned on Blaise who would share this carriage with her. She glanced nervously at the door, anticipating that mop of black hair. 

But Ron closed the door and knocked on the wall. The carriage lurched forward with no fourth passenger. Blaise bit her lip. _Well, what happened?!_ She caught Hermione looking at her curiously. Blaise gave her a little smile.

"You look familiar," she said. "Aren't you in my Arithmancy class?" Ron glanced at Blaise too. Did his cheeks just get redder? It amused her thinking Potter's close friend thought she was attractive. But why? It's not like Ron's opinion of her would influence Potter's. And it's not like she bloody gives a damn. 

"Oh yeah," Blaise replied, snapping out of her reverie. "I see you in Arithmancy too. We've several classes together, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures." Hermione nodded eagerly. Ron frowned.

"Potions and Hagrid's class? So … you're in Slytherin?" He asked narrowing his eyes. Hermione glared at him, but she held back her tongue. Blaise shrugged.

"Well, yes. I've always been in Slytherin," she said lazily. Ron glanced at his friend as if to say: _How could you share a cabin with a Slytherin_?_ It strongly reminded Blaise of her house's reaction when she walked in the common room with Morag._

"So you're one of Malfoy's friends?" He assumed gruffly. Hermione's eyes widened. But Blaise surprised them when she barked a laugh at Ron's question.

"Malfoy and I as friends?" She said slowly. "Well, we love to hate each other. He loves to annoy me and I love to respond with a hex up his arse. I admit it's a slightly perverted relationship, but I think it's best we are at each other's throats. It's the only way we reach some middle ground." Ron and Hermione exchanged uneasy looks. Blaise noticed the blush on both their cheeks.  

Ron looked away from Hermione as she stared at her nails. "Sounds like you _are_ his friend," he persisted hotly. "How can you even be remotely _civil to such a git? Every time we see him, Harry has to hold me back from bloody cursing him." Blaise rolled her eyes._

"Ugh, what is it with boys and rivalries?" She asked as Hermione grinned knowingly. "Fine, Weasley, Malfoy's my friend. We eat off each other's plate and braid each other's hair too. In fact, we're _so close_ and _so in tune that he's in my pocket as we speak." _

Ron ignored Blaise the rest of the way to the village. Not that she cared. Hermione proved a more engaging passenger. They talked about their lessons in Arithmancy and the Hippogriff incident. Blaise found Hermione's friendliness pleasantly off-putting. She expected Hermione would behave pompously since Potter is the Wonder Boy of Gryffindor. But her first impression had been right. Hermione was okay. And nothing like Look-at-me-I-saved-the-day-again Potter, thank Merlin. 

The carriage pulled up to the wizards' village and the three of them hopped out. Blaise scanned the crowd for her friends while Hermione and Ron ventured into the town. Hermione turned back to Blaise and gave her a small smile just as Ron offered his arm to her. Blaise watched the two walk away, wondering if Potter intentionally stayed behind so his friends could have some time together. 

She made her way through the sea of students until she reached a cobblestone road lined with small boutiques and cafés. She spotted Morag and Millicent a couple of meters away. Waving to get their attention, she abruptly tripped and landed awkwardly on her elbows.

"Oh look. Another pothole," someone drawled as Blaise brushed away her bangs. She glared up at the kids standing over her. Marietta Edgecombe and several other 4th year Ravenclaws stood over her, including the Asian girl Cedric ogled earlier. Marietta's parents worked in the Ministry with Vanessa. But since her folks looked down on Mama (especially now), Marietta the Sheep resented Blaise as well. 

"Grow a pair, Edgecombe," she grunted getting to her feet. "If you want to spar, don't be subtle about it." Marietta reached for her wand, but the Asian girl stepped in between them.

"Stop it, Marietta," she said evenly. "She's just walking here."

"Don't defend her, Cho! She may not look it, but she's as nasty as the whole lot of them. Bloody Slytherins," Marietta snarled. Cho turned to her friend. 

"You can't believe everything you hear." Marietta ignored her friend and pulled out her wand. Blaise drew out hers as well. 

"Give me one reason, Zabini. And I'll have your arse in Azkaban along with your pathetic excuse of a mother."

Blaise lunged for Marietta preferring to break the girl's nose with her bare hands. She managed to scratch the Ravenclaw on the cheek before bystanders pulled them apart. 

"Stop, Marietta! You should know better! We're older!" Cho gasped. 

"That's enough. We're here to have a good time," a voice boomed behind Blaise. She yanked herself away and glared at Roger Davies. He nodded curtly at her. "Enough, Blaise … Just walk away. And don't follow her, Marietta!" He barked facing his housemates.

Blaise debated whether to ignore Roger or listen to him when someone grabbed her arm. She looked up to find Oliver eying the Ravenclaws warily. 

"All right there, Davies?" He asked gruffly. Now, Oliver had grown into a very commanding frame. He was half a foot taller than Roger was. His cloak covered his brawny figure, but one could still make out the defined shoulders and arms. He looked more like a rugby player than a wizard.

People dispersed as Roger assured Oliver things were okay. Marietta disappeared in the crowd. Blaise wasn't surprised. Cowards like Edgecombe tended to bully her only when an audience was around. 

"Well, so much for getting a good first impression of this place," Oliver said shortly. "What were you fighting about anyways?"

"Does it really matter?" She sighed staring at her feet. Oliver bit his lip.

"Here. Let me buy you a drink. Have you tried butterbeer before?"

He held the door open to the Three Broomsticks. It was a homely bar with Maple panels along the wall and floor. Lanterns made of colorful stained glass dangled from the ceiling while the lazy sounds of a harp and ukulele combo droned from speakers. Round wooden tables with cushioned benches scattered the pub, occupied with patrons from the village and Hogwarts. Persian-styled rugs secured them in place. Booths covered with maroon velvet provided a more intimate seating. Several booths had candles floating on their surfaces.

Oliver closed the door behind him as Blaise treaded along the gypsy-like afghan on the floor. She couldn't help looking around the pub, even if it drew attention to herself. Several patrons lifted glasses to her. The owner of the pub smiled at the pair.

"Hi there, Oliver. I see you brought a friend. Your usual seat?"

"Ta, Rosemerta," he smiled and tipped his hat to her. He leaned close to Blaise's shoulder and directed her to their seats.  

Blaise skipped past a group of Warrior Elves and almost bumped into an ogre. They settled into a booth in the corner by the window. Blaise gave up searching for her friends in the noisy pub. She leaned back tiredly in her chair as Rosemerta placed two mugs of butterbeer on the table. 

"I'm surprised you haven't had this drink before," Oliver grinned. Blaise licked the foam off her lips and smiled back.

"I remember we had a tap in the manor. But my mum said I was too young to drink it. Then one of the elves got into it. I reckon Dad had to close the tap after that. For their own safety." Blaise stopped herself. She really didn't want to mention her parents … or Oma. She only grew frustrated thinking about it.

"So," Oliver cleared his throat probably sensing her uneasiness, "Why isn't Cedric showing you around this place? He's been enticing you about it since I can remember."

"He had other plans." She tried not to sound too irritated. "I went here with my friends, but we got separated. But Millicent was banging on about Honeydukes. So I could check over there." Oliver cleared his throat again. Blaise raised her brow.

"Are you catching a cold or something? You've been coughing up a lung since summer break." He chuckled.

"No. Probably just allergies." He rubbed his nose making it redder than necessary. "By the way, Elle says Hi." Blaise grinned.

"Really? How is she? When did you talk to her? I got the card she sent me. It was very clever." He chuckled at her questions.

"She's working for Gringotts. Last, I heard, she explored some tombs in Brazil. And she just sent me an owl two days ago. She's having a wicked time. She said she already tackled a mummy and had a near scuffle with a Manticore! Can you imagine? And she especially wanted me to tell you that there're about 200 Manticores still running free." He arched his brow at her this time. "Why are you interested in them?"

"Just curious," she shrugged stifling a smug grin. "I can't wait until I graduate. I want to be a treasure hunter too. I've always wanted to be one ever since I watched Indiana Jones."

"Who?"

"Nothing. Just a muggle reference." 

Oliver leaned forward in his seat. "You know … I honestly don't see what that Edgecombe berk hates about you." Blaise blushed as he continued. "I mean, if you're this evil little pureblood they insist you are, then why do you know so much about Muggle culture? And … you appreciate it as well."

Blaise took another sip from her drink. "It's obvious, isn't it?" She said quietly. "All they see is this," she tapped the badge on her cloak. The badge of Slytherin, the snake. 

"That's not very fair."

"Well, it goes for everyone, Oliver. We all have our prejudices, whether we voice them out or not. Because I'm a Slytherin, people expect the worst from me. And since you're in Gryffindor, you're supposed to be nauseatingly good. While Cedric's expected to conform to Hufflepuff's easy-peasy image, and so on. I hate the discrimination, but I just have to accept it."

"Yet you accept it with a hex and a spit on the neck." He hinted at her temper with a bemused smile. "That doesn't really sound like you're cooperating with the system." Blaise gulped down the rest of her drink.

"I don't know exactly how to cooperate or accept it. Every day I tell myself: _Sod it. I am whatever they say I am_. If that's cooperating, then I'm guilty." She slowly rubbed the side of her brow.

"Sorry, if I hit a nerve." 

"You didn't, Oliver. Sometimes, it's relaxing to talk about it." She glanced up from her drink to see Millicent squishing her nose against the pub's window. "Thanks for the drink, mate. My friends are outside, so I'll get out of your hair now."

"It's always a pleasure, Blaise," he shrugged. She waved and left the pub, leaving Oliver to order another drink for himself.

The rest of her Hogsmeade trip went without incident. The girls tried on the different dress robes, took pictures by the Shrieking Shack, drank more butterbeer (and convinced some older patrons to buy them a pint of mead), and sent a handful of anonymous hate mail to Edgecombe. 

The girls decided to play dress up for the Halloween Feast later that night, to Blaise's chagrin. She dug into her trunk and pulled out the first clean dressy-thing she saw. It was a little tight, but a dress is a dress. As she waited for Pansy in the common room, Blaise laced on her combat boots and managed her hair into a ponytail as best she could without a mirror. 

Blaise had just wrapped the Handy Sash around her upper thigh and covered it with the hem of her dress, when Pansy jogged down the stairs. She nodded approvingly at her ensemble, only to snort at Blaise's boots.

"So close, yet so far once again," she sighed. "Girl, those boots are dreadful."

"That's why they're so me," she drawled. She wrapped an arm around Pansy. "Mill's already outside. Debating with Vincent again. I can't believe that witch. She'll argue with anyone."

"Hmm … amazing it's Crabbe of all people. Don't you think it's odd … She's always arguing with the fellow. Even when he doesn't argue back."

Blaise snickered. "Yes, it's all quite touching. Ah, but such is puppy love." They snorted loudly. "By the way, don't think I don't see what you're doing with Malfoy." 

Pansy blushed. "I'm just concerned for the boy, Blaise! He was nearly killed by that horrible feathered … thing."

"That dunderhead provoked Buckbeak. And he says Goyle's slow. I've seen spoons sharper than Malfoy."

"Oh, shut up. I'm going to enjoy myself tonight," Pansy sighed tossing her hair over her shoulder. She scrunched her curls for the nth time. "Remember that favor I asked of you? You have to be absobloodylutely discreet."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"Seriously, Blaise-"

"I know!"

Pansy had asked Blaise to take a picture of her with Malfoy. Only Pansy was too embarrassed to ask the boy to pose for one. So Blaise had to take a candid shot once Pansy managed to squeeze into a chair next to him. Blaise wished she'd asked Millicent or Morag to do this. If Malfoy caught her taking his picture, his arrogance would probably convince him she's starting a fan club. Well, Pansy would be anyway.

They reached the Entrance Hall to find the students mingling with each other. Heads turned when Blaise called out Morag's name. Several jaws dropped as the blonde crossed the room and punched playfully at Morag's arm.

"You look great, Morag!" Blaise laughed. She had chosen a flattering navy blue to heighten her red hair. Morag shook her head. 

"Blaise, you look … stunning. I'm serious. You look … _sixteen_."

"Yeah, just too bad I'm flat as a nail head. I know the joke, sweetie."

Morag objected again when someone tapped on Blaise's shoulder. She turned around to find a lens aimed directly at her.

"What the-"

"H-hi, Blaise!" A boy squeaked. "You must be wondering why I know you're Blaise. Well, Neville told me that was your name, because I asked him when I saw you across the Great Hall last year. You're so pretty. And you still are. Even more now. Ha, ha. Anyway, you look really h-hot tonight and I was wondering, c-can I take your picture? You don't have to right now, but anytime would be okay. I'll understand if you don't. Anyway, my name's Colin Creevey. I'm a Muggleborn. And you're a Pureblood, right? I hope that's not weird."

_This is weird. "Uh … I guess." Colin quickly snapped a shot. She blinked at the stars in her eyes when Malfoy approached them._

"Taking pictures again, Creevey? Whose arse are you kissing …" He stared at Blaise, "… nice--err--now?" Did Malfoy just blush?!

"What the hell are you looking at?" She snapped. She brushed past him and made her way to the Great Hall's doors. All the while, she suddenly became aware of the heads, mostly male heads, turning to her. She saw Roger completely turn his back to the girl talking to him to stare at Blaise. Shawn, Cedric's classmate, blushed as he nodded towards her, earning envious glares from his mates. Even Fred and George smiled appraisingly at her. Blaise began to wonder.

"Is there a bogey hanging off my nose or something?" She whispered to Millicent. Mill shook her head. "Then why are they all staring at me?! Is there a Kick-Me sign taped on my arse or what?!" Morag ran up to them with Pansy following closely behind.

"Blaise, didn't you look at yourself in the mirror before you left?" Mill asked cautiously.

"I checked myself this morning. Why?" Mill laughed. Morag slapped her lightly. "What is it?!" Pansy cleared her throat. 

"Umm … Blaise … well … you have a different look tonight. Everyone's accustomed to seeing you in those baggy robes. And your dress now just really shows off your … form."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Blaise snapped folding her arms over her chest. Wait, her … _chest? What happen to the ribcage? She glanced down. "HOLY SHIT!" The girls clamped their hands over her mouth._

"Blaise, are you okay?" Cedric asked walking over to them. 

_Oh, please don't let Cedric see this, she thought hysterically. He peeked over Morag's shoulder. His eyes widened._

"Is it really that bad?" She whimpered. 

"Prefect's bathroom," he mumbled ushering them out the Hall. They quickly piled into the bathroom as Cedric closed the door behind him. He turned back to the four girls. He stared openly at Blaise. 

"Stop looking at me like that!" She snapped. "What's the big deal?!"

"Apparently, it's your breasts," Mill said trying to sustain her grin.

Blaise threw up her hands. "Well, I didn't know I had them! They're not supposed to be there!" She stomped over to the full-length mirror. She almost didn't recognize herself. 

The tight sweater dress ended halfway down her thigh. The slit sleeves showed her arms adorned with silver bangles, while an armband in the shape of a silver snake with emerald eyes coiled around her upper arm. But no amount of accessories could take away the fact that Blaise Zabini had hit puberty. Big time.

"You need a bra," Pansy said comfortingly. "A real bra, since training bras won't have the support you need. I say they're a perky C-cup." Blaise grimaced.

"This's not natural," she groaned. Cedric fidgeted.

Morag said, "Neither's that arse. But you _do_ look good, Blaise." 

"But I'm only thirteen! No girls our age look like this. What happened? Cedric, is this normal?!"

He suddenly smiled. "Blaise … you were always beautiful." A lump balled in her throat.

"No, Cedric. It's freakish." She hugged herself, trying to cover as much as she could. Her friends exchanged uneasy glances. The Blaise they knew never expressed insecurity. And the connection between her and Cedric made them feel out of place.

"Hey, girls, is it okay if I talk to Blaise alone for a minute?" He asked quietly. They nodded and left the bathroom. 

Blaise tightened her arms around her chest. She felt like an idiot. She remembered all the boys staring at her, Creevey taking his stupid pictures. She was a joke and she didn't even know it.

"Blaise, what are you thinking?"

"I look like a whore," she whispered. He lifted her face to him.

"Don't ever say that. Hey, look at me. Don't ever let yourself think that. Look in the mirror, Blaise. No, really look." She did blinking back tears. "You know what I see, Blaise? I see a lovely young girl. She's been through a lot. She's still going through a lot. But as long as she keeps a good head on her shoulders, she'll be fine. She has a good heart, a wicked temper, a great sense of humour, and amazing beauty, inside and out." He turned her to him. 

"You will never be anything less to me, Blaise." He took off his cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I feel bad. We should've noticed before you came back to school. Mum should've at least …"

"We're all pretty distracted right now. With Black on the run and everything."

"They'll find him, Blaise. They'll catch him soon enough. Dad's even helping, you know. Fudge's just an idiot."

"Yeah, but he's got the power," she sighed. Cedric rustled her hair. 

"Let's go to the feast, kid. Enough moping. Your folks insisted you carry on. Oma told you-"

"I know. Keep your chin up."

Steamed

Lighting coursed across the ceiling of the Great Hall making Blaise tear her eyes off her book to stare at it. The weather reflected her mood: stormy, prone to spastic shocks of electricity, deafening outbursts, and chaotic grumblings. The discovery of her womanliness left Blaise suspicious of all male glances. Heck, even when female heads turned she'd fling her arms out and challenge them to a duel. Her erratic behaviour earned her the nickname Lady Cadogan from her friends. 

Mail from McGee came in early November. The package contained bras and other embarrassing paraphernalia. Blaise had to open it in the privacy of her chambers, with the curtains drawn over her bed and all the candles snuffed out. She still felt her cheeks burn whenever she remembered the lacy bustier McGee purchased for her. 

But the embarrassment only worsened when the whole Slytherin house discovered Blaise had a secret admirer. For the past week, swarms of pixies delivered roses to her in the common room. Well, rather they delivered the flowers everywhere else but to her hands. She even found little notes tucked in her books, falling out at the most inconvenient moments where Malfoy can read them to the whole class. It also didn't help that Creevey had gotten over his Potter infatuation and now tailed Blaise everywhere she went. The tiniest sound of a camera click would send Blaise diving to the floor covering her face. 

And Blaise thought Valentine's Day last year had been horrible. She'd gladly welcome back that singing goblin if it meant she'd never have to pull a pixie out of her hair again. She wanted to find the bugger who sent that blasted card to her. It might be the same fool pestering her now. But with her newfound bubbies, it could be _any bloke. It could be __more than one bloke. Either way, she thought all boys were perverts, except Cedric … and maybe Oliver. He was the only boy who still treated her like one of the guys._

Lighting flashed again just as Millicent called out to Blaise.

"Have you been here all day?" Mill asked. "Aren't you going to watch the game? Cedric's playing against Gryffindor."

Blaise threw her books in her bag and glanced at the ceiling. "Are you sure there's even a game? They shouldn't let them play in this weather."

"C-cancel Quidditch?" Millicent choked. "Blasphemy! It was bad enough they cancelled the game last year. I can't, I can't take it. Must … must!" She pulled at her braids.

"Hey, take it easy, Mill." Blaise tried not to laugh. "I only expressed an opinion. I'm sure they didn't cancel the game." Mill breathing steadied. "Of course, everyone here's just as loony over Quidditch as you are. Let's go. You're cheering for Cedric, right?"

Thirty minutes later and twenty minutes into the game, Blaise stopped cheering, period. She couldn't make out anything on the field. Every now and then, she'd hear people cheer or Lee Jordan's voice ring out from the speakers, but none of it sounded intelligible. 

Resting her hands on the metal railing, Blaise wondered why Cedric and Oliver just didn't call this match a stalemate and play again under better conditions. But those two have behaved differently around each other since summer break. Boys will be boys, McGee said. Still, Blaise found their fighting over a stupid goal abnormal. Then again, Oliver had become more obsessed with winning, while the pressure of making captain got to Cedric, more than he let on. 

"We've got two blokes out there, hungry to prove themselves to the other," she mused under her breath. "Yeah, they're not calling off this game anytime soon."

She stifled a yawn as someone whistled beside her. Blaise turned to find Hermione and Ron huddled under an umbrella.

"Enjoying the game, Zabini?" She grinned. Blaise chuckled.

"I'd enjoy it more once it's over. Who's leading?"

"Hufflepuff's just down by fifty," Hermione said biting her lip. "But at this rate, both teams will be over 300 if nobody finds that Snitch."

Blaise shrugged. "Not to put down Cedric's skills, but I'm surprised Potter hasn't seen the thing yet. He's got the best vision out there with his glasses protecting his eyes."

Hermione frowned. "What do you mean …" Gryffindor suddenly called a time out. Her face brightened. "Wait! That's brilliant, Zabini!" She ran off the bleachers. Blaise scratched her head. 

"What the heck was that all about?" Ron asked her. 

"I don't know. She's your friend, the genius." Hermione came back minutes later. And the game resumed.

Blaise propped her elbows on the railing. The lightning made Potter's glasses flash in her direction. He suddenly dove just as Cedric did. Blaise stood up from her seat.

"Go, Cedric!" She cried cupping her hands over her mouth. 

Suddenly a collective shudder surged through the crowd, hushing everyone to silence. Blaise steadied herself against the railing, her blood felt like ice. She glanced at the grounds and nearly fell over the ledge. Lightning illuminated hundreds of black hoods. All turned their faces to the crowd. She had thought she lucked out when the Dementors avoided her cabin on the train. But tonight, they subjected everyone to their presence.

Blaise closed her eyes against her will as her back arched painfully backwards. Her tongue caught in her throat as she heard voices echo harshly in her head.

_… So witches do bleed … _

_… You're nothing without your stupid witchcraft!__ … _

_… Your family is the worst kind … How many galleons did they pay? … _

_… You're not cut out for Hufflepuff … Tenderhearted, forgiving -- That's not you …_

_… No one in this school is on your side …_

Blaise tried to shake the voices out of her mind. She saw Pansy lean against Millicent, shaking from her sobs. Malfoy turned to her, unable to speak as an icy tear fell down his cheek. He, too, struggled against the Dementors. Blaise shivered. 

Staring down at the hoods hovering beneath them, she clenched on the railing. "Get out of our heads!" She hissed. They floated closer. People began to scream as Blaise saw someone fall from the sky. Her necked ached as she tried to stand still. 

_… _Have I EVER asked you of anything?!___ … _

_… What we tell you now must never leave this table …_

_… _One shot, little girl … Try to save the day … __

_… Forgive me … I hope you understand … _

_… Please tell me nothing happened … I'd die! …_

_… It hurts at first, little girl … _

_… Please tell me nothing happened! … _

_… It hurts at first …_

_… PAPA! WHERE ARE YOU! … HELP ME! … _

_… Stop crying, stop moving … _

_… _Tell me nothing happened!!! …__

"Stop it!" She roared. Something swelled inside her. It broke through her skin and flared around her. The voices stopped. The Dementors backed away when Dumbledore streamed a Patronus from his wand. 

Potter's body lay motionless on the ground. 

"Look out behind you!" Morag cried.

A Dementor swooped in front of the Slytherins as Dumbledore conjured a stretcher for Potter. Excited from the crowd, it became greedy for their energy. Blaise spun around as it loomed over her. It drew in a raggedy breath, making her blood curdle. 

"NO!" She cried flinging out her arms. The voices circled around her, she heard that voice again. Tears blinded her vision. A sob crawled to her throat. She couldn't stop it. 

Then she suddenly saw the face of a little boy in her mind. His mouth formed the words: _Fight Back … Louder the words came, flooding her brain until it drowned out her heartbeat. __Fight back. Her blood boiled. _

She closed off her mind and the only emotion that remained in her was … rage. 

An invisible force surrounded her, and the Dementor stepped back, slightly confused. Blaise spat at the ground and narrowed her eyes. Clenching her fists, the force swelled until the Dementor backed so far that it fell over the other side of the bleachers. Stumbling weakly, Morag peered over the ledge.

"I-it's gone!" She gasped. Blaise flinched as the force withdrew back into her.

"Blaise! Are you all right?!" Millicent reached out to hold her but quickly jumped back. "B-Blaise! You're piping hot!" She held up her blistered hand.

"W-what?" She asked faintly. Malfoy ran forward with Professor Snape at his side.

"There she is, Professor. Steam coming out of her ears and everything," he said with a straight face. She dared him to laugh at her. His gaze wavered as Snape approached her.

"Zabini …" The professor said curtly. When she didn't respond, he hesitantly tapped her on the shoulder. "Blaise … Do you know what happened, Blaise?" The soft tone of his voice took her out of the stupor. Snape narrowed his eyes.  

"Everyone, back to the common room. Zabini, I'll send up a potion with one of the elves to take care of that fever of yours." She nodded numbly.

The group quietly headed back to the dorm amidst whispers of Potter's fatal accident. Her whole body ached from struggling against the Dementor's glare, her skin still warm. Once she reached the room, Blaise headed for the showers. 

The stream collected thickly around her even if the tap was on the coldest notch. When she went to bed, an excitable house elf had a glass of milk and Snape's remedy waiting for her. Her whole body cooled after she swallowed the vial's contents. 

Blaise fell into an uneasy sleep, waking up whenever a hint of the memories the Dementor's conjured came close to her conscious. It had been a tough night for everyone, since they all faced a memory they'd rather forget. Blaise tried to sleep, tried to hold back the anger boiling under her skin. Millicent and Pansy watched from their beds wondering how they could help their friend escape the hell in her mind. 

Know Who Your Friends Are

Cedric felt awful that his team won against Gryffindor. He claimed it wasn't a real win. He wanted an unquestionable victory, the kind that everyone would accept. Where there'd be no reason to think that the other team had better odds.

Blaise agreed. Cedric had an easy win, because Potter fell off his broom. That may not mean Cedric was the better flier, but it meant Cedric had a stronger threshold for misery. But a wizard had never attacked him. He never witnessed his parents being tortured or murdered. So maybe what the Dementors inflicted on him was mild compared to what Potter endured. 

Pain is still pain though. 

At their next Potions class, Blaise found herself partnered with Malfoy. She wouldn't have minded so much, if the boy would stop the stupid Dementor impressions. She snapped at him to start chopping their ingredients. But Malfoy ignored her and continued his antics as his friends snickered behind them. 

He suddenly stopped when someone flung a ronking crocodile heart at his head. Blaise almost laughed aloud at the shock registered on his face, but instead she hissed, "Serves you right, Malfoy!" 

She looked up to find Potter and Weasley grinning goofily at them. For someone like him to lose a Quidditch match and nearly die from it, he seemed in good spirits. She found Potter's ability to smile at trauma admirable. But his mirth had been short-lived when Snape took 50 points from Gryffindor. Blaise caught Draco smirking. In response, she kicked him under their table. He rubbed his shin, scowling at her. 

"Are you done gloating there? Chop these bloody leeks for me." To her surprise, he did.

Blaise would catch glimpses of Potter every now and then in and out of their classes. She didn't know why, but she sensed something troubled him. Something bigger than losing a game. She kept out of his way most of the time. Rumor in school was that Black was after him. He didn't have a hunted look on his face though. But Malfoy had let it slip that Potter didn't know the complete truth about Black. Blaise wondered if Malfoy knew himself.

As the holidays grew closer, Blaise often found herself sitting amongst her friends, not saying much. She found their banter distracting in a positive way. Since the Dementors stormed the Quidditch field, she couldn't sleep without having nightmares. It angered her thinking the Dementors purposely sought out her mind. It angered her more thinking that, maybe they found her because all the school's defenses focused on Potter's safety. Screw everyone else.

She had to hand it to the girls though. This year brought them closer. Last year, they stuck together through the Chamber of Secrets ordeal. But this year just felt more significant. Secret crushes were revealed. Hell, they literally saw Blaise _blossom_ into this bosomy waif. And they each witnessed the other at their most vulnerable moments. 

Pansy talked frankly about the memories the Dementors made her mind regurgitate. She told them her parents' relationship with her older brother grew strained when he fell in love with a Muggle. She told them how her father threatened her brother Patrick. How Patrick left their home. How it had been one of the saddest days of her life when he said he could never come back again.

Millicent had her own insecurities. She had to constantly lie to her folks about her friendship with cousin Morag. She just didn't see what all the fuss was in purity. It felt wrong to Mill to disown a good friend for such shallow reasons. And last year, Mill feared for her cousin's life. She went out of her way to protect her. To the point that the older years almost threw Mill out, when they found out she let a Ravenclaw inside their dorms. Blaise had stopped them though, challenging the whole lot of them to duel. They backed away when they realised Zabini was quite a skilled dueler. 

And Morag. She stuck with people she liked and became an outcast in her house in the process. Morag had a frank, listen-to-me-or-sod-off attitude that alienated the Ravenclaws. But their standoffish behaviour turned her off as well. When Morag told Blaise that she often felt like she didn't know where she belonged in Hogwarts, Blaise knew exactly what she meant. Morag was the breath of fresh air in their group. Her geeky exuberant attitude definitely contrasted with Pansy's snootiness, Mill's bluntness, and Blaise's … well, Blaise. 

She was glad she had these girls around … her soul sistahs. A term Millicent coined, since she also had noticed their bond after the Soul-Suckers aka Dementor incident. 

With the girls, Blaise found it easier to talk about things. Girly topics she couldn't otherwise discuss with Cedric. She still held back many things from them. When asked about any boys she may fancy, Blaise had nothing to say. When asked who she thought was cute, she drew a blank. She could've been politically correct and answered Cedric. But that would be too weird. 

As for Cedric, he was proving to be quite the idiot.

"Are you kidding me, Diggory?!" She growled chasing after him across the Quidditch field. Hufflepuff had just suffered an embarrassing loss to Ravenclaw. Blaise watched the whole thing with a bad taste in her mouth. "Are you bloody kidding me? The Snitch was right there! How could you stop for her?! Wait … WHY DID YOU STOP FOR HER?"

"Let it go, Blaise," he sighed propping his broom over his shoulder. "You win some, you lose some." Blaise narrowed her eyes.

"Did you throw this game then? Is that it? Why don't you just _give Gryffindor the cup?"_

"Let it go! Damn!" He snapped. "Since when are you so passionate about Quidditch anyway? You never cared whenever I showed you my moves. You'd just flip another stupid page in your stupid charm book. As if you're too bloody smart to play on _broomsticks_."

Blaise bit her lip. "Just because I don't know how to fly doesn't mean I don't appreciate it. I like this game as the next person. Which's why I can't understand what happened today! It's as if … you don't care. You didn't even try. Cedric … it's not your fault Potter fell off the broom."

He turned sharply to her. "Drop it now, Blaise." He ran his fingers through his hair just as some Ravenclaw players passed by. Blaise recognized Cho Chang who waved shyly at him.

"Good game," she said hesitantly. Cedric nodded with a blush. Blaise scoffed at the girl. 

"Bullshit, Chang. You know they played bad. Why do you have to be such a bloody fake?" Cedric reeled and dragged Blaise away as Cho stared after them.

"What's wrong with you?" He hissed once they were away from the crowd. "Can't you get along with _anybody_? See, this's why you're fighting with everyone. You think everyone's out to get you. And with an attitude like yours, I'm not surprised. What the hell happened to you, Blaise? You used to be fun."

Blood rushed to her face. "Sorry, I'm not Miss Perfect Personality!" Her eyes watered as she stormed away.

"Blaise," he sighed. "Blaise, wait!"

She ignored him and jogged up the steps to the castle. Cedric called for her again and grabbed her arm.

"Blaise, I'm sorry! Come on, look at me!"

Someone scoffed at them.

"Are we having a lovers' spat here?" Hannah laughed. Several Hufflepuffs turned and snickered at Blaise. Cedric paled when he saw Cho was among the crowd. Looking away, Cho hurried back to her dorm. 

That moment, Cedric let Blaise's arm go. Glaring, he marched inside the castle leaving Blaise to face the girls.

"Guess it wasn't a _lovers'_ spat after all," Hannah smirked. She walked away with the rest of the group following her. Blaise couldn't find any words to snarl back at them. For the first time ever, Cedric … deserted her. 

But that would happen, wouldn't it? He owed her nothing. And she surely didn't own him. Thinking over the years she knew him, she needed him more than he needed her. And now … Blaise realised the truth. He never needed her. She was just a whiny neighbor that wouldn't go away. Probably the only source of headaches for him.

"Blaise?" She looked up to find Susan standing by the doors. The two girls eyed each other carefully. "Are you okay?"

Blaise squared her shoulders and nodded. She still couldn't speak. Susan bit her lip. 

"We should hang out more, you know? I was wondering … Well, actually, I want you to stay with us for a while during the holidays. It's tough, you know, without family."

Blaise finally found her voice. "Yeah, I'd like that. We could catch up on things." 

Susan held out her hand. She stared at it for a moment. Her chest ached thinking about the time Susan told her she was the sister she never had. She felt so alone now, staring at the girl's outstretched hand. She didn't know what the gesture meant anymore. 

Was it pity? An apology? A truce? For what? They never fought. Cedric said he'd never think less of her. But he did today. And Blaise felt like … she let him down. She had let herself down. 

Blaise took Susan's hand for a handshake. But Susan pulled her into a bear hug instead. And suddenly, Blaise couldn't stop her tears. She buried her face in Susan's hair as the girl patted her on the back. And she voiced out what truly tore at her heart. 

"I don't know what's going to happen, Susan. I'm losing everyone. I'm scared."

Susan hugged her tighter. And even though she said nothing, Blaise felt it. She felt Susan's message … _You haven't lost me, Blaise. I'm still here. _

***********

Thanks for reading and reviewing! Your support's greatly appreciated … Seriously. ^_^ Nengski


	8. Durmstang With Dad

Translations for some of the text are available in my Yahoo Group. Everyone is welcome to join it. The disclaimer is there to cover my arse. You can find a link to my group on my website. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Hope everyone had a wicked Halloween. ^__^ Nengski

*************  

Chapter Seven: Durmstang With Dad

Der Schwindel and the Savier

Blaise stepped off the ramp and searched the crowd for a familiar face. After the train ride back to Platform 9 ¾, she had taken a taxi to the muggle airport, and from there flew to Bulgaria. This would be her first Christmas Holiday in Durmstang. Her first visit to the place at all.  

"Blaise! Over here, Blaise!" 

Blaise grinned in relief when she saw her father break through the crowd. Zonarius Zabini still had his silvery blond hair in a ponytail, with a hint of facial hair along his jaw. His blue-violet eyes crinkled as he pulled Blaise in a hug. His resemblance to his daughter was striking. He had a sweeping fur-lined trenchcoat over a knitted blue sweater and wool grey slacks. The only thing that betrayed him of his wizardry was the leather wand holster strapped across his chest, just like Blaise … and maybe his dragon-skin shoes. 

"Did you have a good flight, dear?" He said as they waited for the valet. "I was worried the snow would delay you. I came in early just in case."

"It was fine, Dad. I talked to a muggle next to me. Very nice, old woman. She was visiting her son. The flight attendant also gave me a sandwich. It wasn't very filling but the peanuts were tasty. At least, I finished my paper for Potions by the end of the flight."

The train ride was a whole other story. Blaise spent the whole time sulking in the cabin while her friends giggled over gibberish. Every so often, she'd have the impulse to storm Abbot's cabin and scratch the smug grin off her face. The Hufflepuff would pass Blaise's seat and tease the Slytherin. If it weren't for Susan and Morag, Blaise would've succeeded in damaging the pestering girl. 

Blaise had to bid farewell to her friends before she left the train. She couldn't tell them where she would be going, nor let them see her leave. It was for their safety. She still would spend the New Year with her friends, but this Christmas she'll spend with Dad. And only Dad unfortunately.  

Cedric's apologetic behaviour didn't last long. Instead, he pursued Cho, trying to prove to the girl that he liked her not Blaise. It seemed Cho and he had a mild flirtation going on, but the Ravenclaw balked when she saw him chase after Blaise. 

Well, if Cho had a measly _neuron in that pathetically vacant brain of hers, she'd realise Cedric and Blaise were __just friends and have been friends __since they were in diapers. There's a history there that the stupid twat should __respect. But since she's a vain, shallow, flat-chested mongrel, Cho let Insecurity rear its ugly head up her flabby arse. And Cedric, being the hormonally unstable idiot he was, bent for it. _

Blaise's stomach lurched. If _that was love, then she refused to have anything to do with it. Why would anyone leave their friends from some shabby tail?! She would tell this to Cedric's face, but at this point, she couldn't predict his reaction. They had always gotten into spats, but nothing like this. He had actually hurt her __feelings. What if he just told her to sod off? Or worse, what if he stopped talking to her? Well, he was doing so now, but Blaise didn't want to lose her best friend. _

Yeah, Cedric was her best friend. She knew that now. But she couldn't tell if _HE was aware of that. She didn't really know if he even saw her as __his best friend. _

"I had the elves fix a room for you right beside mine," Dad said once they were inside their car. It was actually a rickety jalopy, magically refined for their comfort. He poured a cup of hot chocolate for the two of them as Blaise nibbled on an éclair that apparated right in front of her.

"Dad, where is Durmstang?" She asked after she took a sip of her cocoa. He smiled at her and patted her hand.

"You'll see, dear. As soon as we get there."

After a long ride ending around sunset, the jalopy pulled in front of a dimly lit pier. Blaise stepped out with her dad. She stood close to him as she checked their surroundings. A few lampposts lined the boardwalk of the harbor. The light barely pierced through the fog. Blaise could only see ten feet in front of her. Dad kept her close, draping his arm over her shoulders as they walked briskly yet carefully to the pier.

"We're looking for a dock _bit ein Schiff. Muggles don't see it, ya? But in this fog, we might pass it too, so keep your eyes open."_

Blaise was about to ask him what the boat looked like when she saw something loom ahead of them in the fog. "Pa, is that it?"

The tip-off had to be that the ship hovered three feet above the water. It reminded her of the pirate ships she read about, contrasting starkly with the muggle-made ships made of various steel and engines. This ship had masts reaching so far into the sky that she lost the tips in the fog. The sails were black and red while the whole body was made of a rich burgundy wood. 

Blaise noticed a muggle sailor sitting along the edge of the dock. He flung his cigar into the water and adjusted his cap. He didn't seem to notice the hulking black ship looming in front of him. The sailor turned to them and grinned, baring tobacco-stained teeth. 

"_Guten Abend_," her father greeted. 

"_Wie geht's?" The sailor nodded with narrowed eyes. _

"_Wir haben Fahrrkarten für de Fähre_."

The muggle arched his brow. "_Er fährt um zehn Ohr morgens," he pulled put his pocket watch, "_Es ist schon spat_." He glanced at Blaise who stared unflinchingly back at him. "Are you__ American?" He proposed with a thick accent._

"_Nein_," Zon replied. "_Wir sind Engländer_." Blaise saw him discreetly reach for the wand under his coat. She responded by hitching her thumb over her belt, close to her beads.

The muggle spat near her dad's feet. "_Der Schwindel! Mach 'ne Fliege! _Ich weiβ wo der Hase lang läuft!_" He reached in his coat just as Zon flicked out his wand._

"Muggle, you leave me no choice. _Obliviate!_" The knife vanished as the man stumbled over his feet and fell into the water. Zon grabbed Blaise's hand and pulled her up a slanted plank that led to the hovering ship. 

"It's okay, dear," he said after Blaise snuck a guilty look at the muggle floating in the water below. "He always gives us a hard time. He'll wake up ten minutes from now and just think he had too much drink again."

"I don't know, Dad," she mumbled as she followed him across the deck. "He didn't seem to believe you from the start."

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat. "Many muggles here also look for Sirius Black. There's a big reward out for him. It draws the nastiest folk. Unfortunately, we look like him." Blaise raised her brow eying her father's shimmery blonde hair. "Well, some," he shrugged with a smile.

"Are we taking this ship to Durmstang?"

"_Nein. This's just where we start."_

"Start? You mean we're not there yet?"

"Soon," he chuckled. "We have to saddle first." He pulled up a trapdoor and pointed inside. Blaise clasped her hands together in surprise.

"We fly on that?!"

"We must. There's no time to set up a carriage."

He jumped through the opening. Moments later, her father emerged with a fully saddled 15-foot long dragon. It had beautifully smooth scales of a rich copper tone with distinct blackish marking along its back, wingspan, and neck. A pair of stubby black horns crowned its slender swan-like head. 

"He is trained, you see," he said proudly as he shrunk Blaise's bag to fit in his pocket." After closer examination of the beast, Blaise took a step back. 

"Dad … this's a Peruvian Vipertooth!"

"Yes, it is! Ten points to Slytherin!" He grinned. He patted on the saddle as the dragon swished its tail and cocked its snout at Blaise. "And I know they're the smallest of all dragons and swiftest in flight. Very advantageous for us, yes. Can we go now?"

"Dad …" she hissed patronizingly. "Dad, they eat humans!"

"But these one is trained," he said bemused. And to prove his point, he swung his leg over the saddle. Blaise held her breath. The dragon seemed pleased to have people straddling him/her/it. Sighing at the look of boyish joy in her father's face, Blaise climbed behind him. 

"Up now, Savier," he commanded. Once they were up in the air, Savier seemed to know the destination, despite the thick fog. Blaise tried to find any semblance of land below but saw nothing.

"I'm sorry for this inconvenience, dear. But this's the only way I can ensure we have private conversation," Zon said over his shoulder. She heard him perfectly despite the speed they went at surely broke the sound barrier in some respect. "Savier is my familiar. He bind himself to me after I saved him in the mountains. Some exterminators killed his family when he just hatch from egg. We can trust his power will deflect any surveillance following us." She nodded.

"So ... what did you want to talk about?"

Zon nodded approvingly. "It will be difficult in the school. Stay with me or with some of my students. I have selected a trustworthy handful to guide you when I am busy. And I will be. Your mother will come home soon. I will prove her innocence much better now that Black was sighted in Hogwarts." He suddenly cursed under his breath. Blaise bit her lip.

"Is that why you decided I come here instead? Because I thought, I had to stay in the school. Oma said it would be safer--"

"Yes, but your grandma has too much confidence in your Headmaster," he said the last word scathingly. "Obviously, he'll do anything to protect Harry Potter, but that leaves everyone else vulnerable. I don't like the risk he takes with that boy. He forgets that there are other people to protect as vell."

Blaise flicked her eyes over to Savier's wings. She knew what her father meant. When Sirius Black escaped Azkaban, Fudge went straight for Oma. Despite the Wizengamot cleared Oma of all charges after her exile, Fudge still held her accountable. But Oma had avoided sequestration by fleeing the island. Fudge attempted to sequester her father next, but he escaped to Durmstang where Fudge had no jurisdiction. 

That left Vanessa. And to appease Fudge, to ensure he backed off Zon, Oma, and even Blaise, she willingly let the Minister shackle her in Azkaban. As an unproven accomplice to Sirius Black. Anything to get the press off his back while he tried to clean up the mess. 

It was ridiculous. Of all the former Death-Eaters running free, Fudge went after the one who actually worked on the good side. The escape itself had so much mystery shrouding it. The only possible explanation was that it could've been an inside job. He very well couldn't say Black had powers unbeknownst to the Ministry. That would have the whole wizarding community in an uproar. People might question his authority or his capability as a Minister. Something Blaise thought they should've done years ago.  

So Fudge needed someone to cover his stupid, fat arse. And any Zabini, even one as young as Blaise would've been the best scapegoat. The whole community already saw them as two-faced wizards. So the media greedily pounced on the chance to crucify a high-profile witch like Vanessa Zabini. It drew the media's attention away from Fudge's pathetic leadership skills. It diverted the attention from Hogwarts. Never mind Dementors stormed onto a Quidditch field and tried to feed on the entire student population there.  

Blaise bit her lip as she tightened her fists. Where _was_ Padre in all of this? She pressed her face against her father's coat. No matter. Padre wasn't the best wizard out there. Her dad, Zonarius Zabini could do anything. He could train man-eating dragons, create magical weapons, produce new charms. And she knew he'd save Mama. Even if it meant exiling himself in Durmstang country forever. That'd be fine. Then they'd all live in Bulgaria or Timbuktu together. She'd go to some wizard school in Beijing if she must. Anything to get Mama away from the Dementors. 

"We're here, Blaise." 

She stirred from her sleep as her dad helped her off Savier's back. The dragon flapped its wings excitedly and crowed up at the gates. Blaise stepped back to take in the castle. It wasn't as huge as Hogwarts, but the mountains that surrounded it were ten times bigger than the latter, even more. 

It looked like a cul-de-sac of snow-covered mountains protected the school in all four directions. A giant moat flanked the sides of the castle, while a long, tall bridge crossed over the steep canyon. Zon grabbed her hand and pulled her across the bridge as Savier took off for one of the mountains calling back to them in a friendly good-bye.

They walked for almost a kilometer before they stopped at the front gate. Blaise gazed up at the scarlet flag flapping against the chilling wind. A wolf's head engraved onto a silver shield, surrounding by a ring of fire. The Durmstang coat-of-arms. 

"Recorded. Professor Zabini and _Fräulein." The guard tipped his hat to Blaise revealing long, black locks of hair and furry eyebrows. He winked at Blaise once her father turned his back to them. He looked ten years her senior. She felt herself blush. She looked away, not before sending a sneer back at him. _

She peered up at the castle. Upon a closer look, she could see the bricks of rock, steel, and ice. The stained-glass windows of red and black were lit with lacquered torches of blue flames. Columns made of slate towered over her, covered in ice that glazed over animated carvings on the rock. A boy about Cedric's age approached them. He had hawkish features and an odd walk. He held a lamp of blue fire to their faces. Dad knew this boy.

"I'm Viktor," he said in a soft voice to Blaise. He swept his hand over the castle's mahogany doors where a handful of students stood waiting, all clad in long maroon cloaks with fur collars. "Velcome to Durmstang." 

The Golden Eagle

Blaise's parents had been very proud of their schools. Though, it pained Mama sometimes to talk about her friends. Pa altogether refused to name names. So Blaise had to get her information about the schools from her parents' textbooks and yearbooks. 

Beauxbatons and Durmstang were both prestigious schools and perhaps more selective than Hogwarts. They did accept students of any lineage but the students had to meet many requirements upon enrollment. They also had to maintain certain standards to stay in school. Neither school divided their students into houses. But they did sort children from top to mediocre comprehension. No surprise, both her folks were in the higher sections. 

She had been here for three days now. Durmstang felt like an entirely different Era to Blaise. The corner of the world the school stood on had two seasons, Day and Night. She visited now in the Night season. Few fires lit the halls. Most students were required to bring their own lamps or rely on their wands for light. Wood didn't come easy as the whole castle was located in a sunken icy chasm. People kept warm with fur-lined cloaks charmed to ward off moisture from snow and lock in body heat. 

Thick slabs of Narra wood paneled the walls. Red mud sealed the panels in place. Tapestries and medieval weapons adorned the halls as well as mounted heads of slain beasts. These often bellowed whenever people passed. Nothing grossed her out more than an animated moose head bleating for her quill.

Rough woven afghans sprawled everywhere on the frozen mud floor. During the Day season, the floor remained cool. Sometimes grass would sprout from the mud along with wildflowers. Viktor told her that the elves would line the halls with fresh vines of grape and jasmine in the Day season. The elves pretty much cared for the castle and its inhabitants. There was no grumpy Filch here picking the lint off a gargoyle's arse. 

Hogwarts had the charmed ceiling in the Great Hall, which was all wicked and dandy. But Blaise thought what Durmstang had knocked the socks off that.

Viktor along with another trusted student named Gertrude took Blaise to the fourth level of the castle. It resembled her favourite courtyard in Hogwarts, but wider. It overlooked the whole castle, including the bridge, the canyon, and the frozen lake at the end of the canyon. As Viktor raised his lamp for Blaise and Gertrude to pass through a narrow passage of stone, she heard the soothing ripples of a waterfall. 

"This is our scrying pool," Gertrude said beaming. Blaise understood why.

The scrying pool was ten feet wide in diameter. The waters swirled clockwise, but changed direction often. Viktor demonstrated its use by stepping to the edge of the pool. The blue waters turned black and stilled to reveal students mingling in the Dining Hall.

"You can seek other places," he said in his choppy English. He insisted to speak Blaise's language, because he wanted to learn it if ever he traveled out of his homeland. "This pool flows in castle. Ve have smaller pool in front foyer. Vater falls on banisters." Blaise nodded.

She had noticed the spiral stairs to this level had unusually large balusters. Big enough for her to slide down from. Water coursed down them all the way to the first floor where it branched off in two directions. One to a small fountain at the entrance. The other to a vent that converged into another waterfall that poured into the lake. 

"It's beautiful," Blaise said sincerely. She could only imagine how much more the falls would look in the Day season. The sparkling blue water already provided a stunning contrast to the ice. 

Gertrude added, "They say a Seer once came here. This vas her pool. Our Divination Professor says true Sight vood happen in pool's vaters."

"You must look," Viktor beckoned. "Ask to see."

Blaise blushed. "I-I don't know what I want to see."

"The pool can show for you," Gertrude shrugged. "It can decide."

She really wanted more than anything to see her mum. Or Oma even. She knew the revelation could do more harm than good though. Still, she didn't want to offend her hosts.

"Can I think about it? I want to decide for myself, and then come back later."

"Good. Ve can do that." Viktor smiled. 

"Viktor, _wir müssen gehen_. Let's have food, ya?" Gertrude suggested looking over her shoulder. Blaise had a feeling they weren't supposed to bring her here.  

"Yes, let's have some dinner. _Ich habe einen Mordshunger."_

"That's very good, Blaise!"

"Yeah. My dad says that all the time."

The Dining Hall didn't look like Hogwarts. Torch-lit chandeliers floated above the room. Dozens of small round tables fitting up to seven people scattered around the Hall. It seemed more like a tavern than a mess hall for students. The faculty's table was on a platform a few feet higher than the rest. It was U-shaped. Headmaster Karkaroff sat in the middle. Her father was on his right-hand side. 

She didn't recognize any of the other staff. But one man looked familiar. Too familiar. But the possibilities of having him here seemed ludicrous. Blaise couldn't think too much on it just then. 

They hurriedly made their way to a table. Pa raised his goblet to her as she sat down with Viktor, Gertrude, and the rest of Pa's trusted students, Erick and Melanie. 

"You showed her the scrying pool?" Erick asked amazed. "Karkaroff might crucify you, Krum." Viktor scowled into his soup as Gertrude shook her head.

"Karkaroff knows Viktor is trying for the Vratsa Vultures next year. If someone could avoid punishment, it is Viktor."

"Ah, Gerdie, must you talk this vay?" Viktor grumbled spearing his fork into a pork chop. "I just thought Blaise vood like it. You did, right?"

"Yes," she grinned. "It was breath-taking. But I don't want anyone to get into trouble for showing it to me. If it's against the rules."

"_Nein!_ Ve can show it," Viktor said waving his hand. "Karkaroff is just a _beschissen Schweinehund."_

"Viktor!" The girls hissed. Erick and Blaise snickered into their goblets.

"Forgive me," he bowed his head. "I meant to say _der hirnlose Ochse_." Blaise whooped loudly.

"Having fun here? May I join?" Someone said from behind her. She stiffened. Suddenly, things clicked. No matter how bizarre, they clicked.

_"Malfoy! What the hell are you doing here?" _

Smirking, he pulled a chair beside Gertrude. She had a goofy smile on her face as she scooted to give him more room. Blaise rolled her eyes. First, Cedric, now Malfoy?!

"My father and the Headmaster are colleagues," he drawled winking at Melanie who blushed and sloshed soup on her lap. Blaise exchanged bewildered looks with Viktor. She narrowed her eyes.

'Colleagues' translated in Malfoy meant 'Death-Eaters', of course. He continued on his nasally drawl.

"I was supposed to study in Durmstang, you know. But mum didn't want me to go too far …"

"Perhaps she wasn't aware of the long drop off the bridge. Had she, I'm sure she would oblige," Blaise said sweetly. The bite in her words flew right over their German-speaking friends. Draco sneered at her.

"You know, we're _only supposed to stay for dinner. But I like it here __so much, I'm sure I can bully father into staying the night." He grinned at Blaise's scowl. _

"You can share a room with us," Erick shrugged, not aware of the daggers the two were shooting at each other. "A lot of our friends left for the holidays."

"It's settled then," Draco smiled toothily at Blaise. "How fun, Zabini. We get to spend Christmas morning together."

"Not to mention with us," Melanie giggled. Blaise seethed. Draco sauntered over to the faculty table and talked to the man who Blaise now recognised was Lucius Malfoy. She pushed away her plate.

"I thought you verr so hungry you could eat a horse," Viktor mused.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Horse. Not snake." 

"Don't be mad, Blaise."

"Define mad, Pa." She crossed her arms as she watched her dad attach another holster at his hip. They had returned to his chambers after the Christmas Eve Feast. But Zon had to meet with Karkaroff and Malfoy soon after. He prepared by adorning himself with more magical arsenal. Blaise shook her head.

"If I'm not mistaken, you're the one stocking up before you talk with those two loons," she sighed. He pulled out an unmistakably gold handgun. The barrel was about six inches long. Her eyes widened as he slipped in the magazine and cocked the gun.

"Quite a vision, isn't it?" Pa said proudly. "Made it myself. I fashioned it from a model of mugglemade Desert Eagle .50 AE pistol. I melted several hundred galleons for the mold. But the magazine automatically refills, so I only load once. Yes, very handy invention. You have the silencer option on or off. And check this out -- What's wrong, dear?"

Blaise bit her lip. "This may sound weird coming from me, Pa. But isn't this _illegal? You're manipulating muggle artifacts here." He chuckled._

"Of course, the _misuse of it is. But, you see, this isn't a muggle artifact. I __made it. The barrel, the magazine, the non-slip handle. It passes for any muggle gun, but muggles can't see it. And I don't bother with ammunition muggles use. I prefer those beads I passed to you. The beauty of this gun is you cast spells with it. You needn't bother saying the word. Just think and pull trigger. It's there. The possibilities are endless. It's very much a second wand. And sturdy. Can't snap in half. But the best feature is that unlike a wand, the gun recognises its welder. So only I can use it. Anyone else touches, and trigger slice perpetrator's hand. You must try it."_

Blaise rolled her eyes. "And get my hand sliced off? No thanks, Pa."

"Oh, I mean to say; only you and I can use this. I had your blood encoded too. In case of emergencies." Blaise arched her brow.

"How many did you make?"

"That is not of importance," he said airily. Blaise snorted. He latched the wandgun in his other holster. With a surrendering sigh, she draped a cloak over his shoulders. The holsters were concealed. He grinned and planted a kiss on her forehead.

"Then how important is this meeting, Pa? Do you really have to talk to the likes of Malfoy?" He sighed. 

"Yes. It's for your Mama. It's for the family. For the best."

"The way you talk, you sound ready to sell your soul."

"It wouldn't be my first time," he said as his features darkened. Blaise gripped his cloak. 

"Don't say that!" She hissed. "Pa, you're all I have left. I'm a part of this family too. Don't tell me this's our last resort. I don't want to hear anything about you buddying up with the likes of those Death-Eaters. You're too smart and too good for them."

He closed his eyes. "Blaise, you're still young. You don't understand how far a person can go for love. You will learn in time." Blaise tried to object but he silenced her with a pained gaze. "Time for bed, sweetie. Tomorrow come Christmas."

He steadily made for the door and closed it quietly behind him. Blaise sunk to the floor on her knees. Pa was right. She didn't understand. Why ask for the Malfoy's help? What can they offer that they can't accomplish on their own? Blaise had a right mind to storm Azkaban herself. She shook her head. In Malfoy dialect, a favor's not a favor … it's a life sentence. 

She woke Christmas morning to find Papa never returned to his room. 

***********

Follow up to this chapter coming soon. But I really shouldn't say that, because I might jinx myself … again. Hope everyone had a wicked Halloween! ^_^ Nengski


	9. When It's Over

Hi all! I've tried the short chapter updating and I don't like it. I apologise to those who did though. It just ruins my whole writing flow. So this chapter is the usual-sized chapter. I'm going to be busy in the next several weeks. I'm trying to earn some extra cash for the holidays so I'm pulling 8-hour shifts on Saturday. Sucks for me, but I have to do what I have to do. :o\ Anyways, thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope to update again before this months ends. :o) ~Nengski 

Chapter Eight: When It's Over 

The One Left Behind

Four months ago, if you told her this would happen, Blaise would have believed you. Sure, she'd hex you for predicting such a distasteful thing, but she'd believe you. 

Things began to crumble when Sirius Black's dirty mug scowled up at her from the Daily Prophet. Pa skipped his morning coffee and went straight for the liquor cabinet. Mama already had a drink made for him. Seeing the two of them drink in silence, exchanging knowing glances Blaise'd probably never learn to decipher, she knew then … 

Black was the Zabini's bane.  

They were in Villa Monteverde that summer. Their schedules finally converged so that they could visit Oma on the island. Pa had finished planning his lectures for the new semester, while Ma joined the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Some people nominated her after kicking Lucius Malfoy's sorry arse to the curb. Haha. 

No one saw that coming frankly. And they should've been vigilant about such absurdities. But Blaise guessed her family just got caught up in the whole _Wow-People-Actually-Respect-Us_ thing. By this time, she didn't really give a shit if people respected her, so she suspected it was some political ploy. 

Call Blaise jaded, so what. What mattered to her was that it seemed the wish came true, you know? That silly wish she used to make at every birthday since she could remember … 

Mama was smiling more, and making fat, creamy éclairs instead of a gin and tonic for once. And she was singing, yes, singing in the kitchen! Usually, she'd locked herself in her office and scream into the pyre all day. Why anyone would choose Law as a profession eluded Blaise.

And Pa finally knocked some sense into his head and began paying more attention to his wife. Usually, his responsibilities at Durmstang would bog him down by signing off papers for maintenance, sending letters of acceptance or rejection, ensuring everything was spot on when the students returned. He seemed more a Headmaster there than a Transfiguration Professor. Blaise knew that Karkaroff bugger was a joke.

And goodness knows Oma was on a natural high. Stay locked up in the castle all summer? Forget about it. She volunteered to do tons of dirty work for the Ministry. Oma loved getting her wand up there and stirring things up. She'd always brag and say everything she's doing is top secret. But she'd indulge Blaise a couple of adventures. Lately, she vaguely mentioned something with recording and gathering data. It sounded mundane so Blaise turned to her books for some fun instead. 

Reading on the edge of the fence. Dangling her feet over the cliff where the island's beaches spread below. Feeling the ocean air and sunlight on her skin, while she could hear her parents laughing in the distance.

This is what Blaise had that summer … 

Yeah … it _was too good to be true._

"Blaise, sweetie, wake up!" Oma's cold hands cupped her face. Blaise gasped awake. Oma placed a finger over the girl's lips. "No time for questions. Go to your folks' room and tell them they have to leave immediately. Make sure you don't make a sound. I'll buy you some time."

"Oma, who is-"

"I said no time for questions, sweetie. Don't worry about me."

Blaise jumped off her bed and hastily threw her holster and utility belt over her shoulder. She pulled the red sash off the bedpost and wrapped it around her head. Then she crouched along the floor and made her way to the other side of the castle, making sure the shadows cloaked her presence. 

She heard footsteps scurrying around the grounds, neither sounded like it belonged to Oma or Rusty. She dashed down the hall, to the door at the end, and rapped on it quickly. The door sprung open and Mama pulled her inside. 

"Oma said we have to leave now." Blaise whispered as her father peeked through the window, armed only with a wand and boxers. Papa cursed and rummaged around for his cloak. "What's going on? She said she'll buy us some time. Time from what?"

Vanessa emptied a jewelry box and tossed it to Zon. "Here, we'll use that for a portkey. Don't look at me like that, Zonarius. You know Blaise can't apparate."

"What about the orbs?" He asked rummaging again for his pouch. 

"Absolutely not!" Mama scoffed. "You know we can only have two in each orb. And I refuse to have you stay behind. We'll all leave _together_."

"Fine," Zon grumbled and tapped the jewelry box. It glowed a second before returning to normal. Suddenly, shouting erupted outside their window. And Blaise distinctly heard Oma's voice roar above the crowd.

"YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!" She cackled. All three of them threw the curtains open.

Rhonda Zabini swung her staff over her head and faced a swarm of armed guards. 

"Madame Zabini," the officer-in-charge boomed. "We are simply following orders to sequester you in the hopes of shedding light on the recent escape of Sirius Black-"

"Codswallop!" Oma barked. "You're here, because that arsewipe you call Minister would soon put everyone else's life all to cock before he grabs his own balls and takes on the real problem! I've been bloody cleared of all charges by the Wizengamot, gentleman. _Black's business in none of my concern_. So if you're going to disrupt my beauty sleep, be prepared to suffer!"

"Madame, I repeat. We don't want any hostility. Just cooperate-"

"So Fudge'll have a scapegoat for his mistake? Did any of you look at the bloody charts? Your Minister was the last to see Black! Get a clue!" The swarm of men hesitated, but stepped closer. Oma slammed the tip of her staff onto the ground. 

"GET OUT OF HERE!" She yelled over her shoulder. Zon cursed and drew back the curtains.

"We can't leave her out there!" Blaise gasped. 

"Oma can take care of herself," Van reassured her. She handed the portkey to Blaise. All three of them placed their hands on it. Blaise felt a tug on her bellybutton and felt the portkey pull her. They disappeared just as the side of the wall exploded, sending the troops sprawling on their backs. A 10-foot crater occupied the place where Oma had stood. 

The Zabini's were barely in Creer Upon Libby for five minutes when a phoenix flashed right on top of the kitchen table. It left a feather that Vanessa picked up with a trembling hand. She turned to Zonarius.

"You have to go. They're coming for you now."

"What?!" Blaise snarled. "This's not right! They can't do this, Pa!" But her father already drew a bag and filled it with clothes. Mama soberly flattened his cloak's collar. Blaise couldn't read the expression on her face. 

"I'll go to Durmstang. Padre has advised that this Ministry has no jurisdiction there." Blaise clung to his arm.

"Dad, no! Don't run! Can't Padre do anything besides tell you where to bloody hide?! You've done nothing wrong. How can they do this to us?"

"Guilty by association," Vanessa sighed. Her eyes were red. Blaise tightened her grip.

"Papa, please don't go."

Zon kissed her on the forehead. "I'm only in Durmstang, dear. I'm not leaving you-"

Footsteps pounded up their yard. Vanessa yelped and hurled a Locking Charm on the door. But the guards had knocked it down.

"We're here to sequester Professor-" 

"He's gone," Blaise said evenly staring past the spot where Papa disappeared. 

The guard stepped back and assessed the two women. "Err, well then … I have to confer with my superior about this."

"You do that," Vanessa said coolly, "Outside my house." 

Once the guard closed the door behind him, Ma flung a goblet at the wall.

"_Merde__!__ Merde! Merde!" She sobbed. Blaise guided her to a chair and quickly poured a glass of water for her._

"We'll see him again, Mama," she said quietly, stroking Vanessa's black hair. A light tapping came from the window above the sink. Cedric's face peered beyond the glass … 

What Blaise had … she realised wasn't _all she had. Suddenly, everything felt lighter when he walked into the room. One look from him conveyed all the comfort and optimism she needed. He held her hand and in his grip, Blaise felt her own strength. Something swelled in her chest as they exchanged looks. But it wasn't the mushy, drop-the-knickers giddiness her friends giggled over. What she felt was fierce and protective and trusting and completely reciprocated … _

And when the guard returned with bullcrap orders to take Vanessa for questioning, Blaise heeded her mum's plea and stood aside. Every bone in her body wanted to set all those guards arses on fire, but his presence calmed her. She even found the humour in that he placed his hand on her shoulder as if to protect her from these yes-men. She'll never tire of him treating her like a brat he must always shield. 

But left behind in Durmstang … wondering if Oma still breathes, knowing her mum's rotting in a cell, staring at her father's empty bed … there's no Cedric here to calm Blaise from this.

So anyone who gets in her way now is as good as dead. 

The Gift

The doors blasted open and she stormed inside with her wand blazing. She pulled off the covers from each bed until she came to the one she wanted. She promptly jumped on the mattress and grabbed the half-awake boy by the collar.

"Blaise, vat are you do-ink?!" Viktor gasped as he watched her tighten her fingers around the boy's neck. Her eyes crackled as she leered at the puzzled expression of the boy under her.

"Spit it out, you shitless, pasty punk! Where's my father?!"

Malfoy sunk his chin into his shirt. "I don't know what you're bloody talking about," came the muffled reply.

"Like hell you don't!" She yanked him off the bed and sent him sprawling to the floor. She aimed her wand directly at his head. "Volunteer the information now, or I'll force it out of you, Malfoy!" Viktor tried to place his hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off angrily. 

"Blaise, Draco voodn't know. He's been vit us all this time. Even I don't know vat you are talk-ink about."

"My father didn't come back to his room all night," she said straining to keep her voice from booming. "And last I know, he had a private meeting with your precious Headmaster and this arsehole's father!"

"Will you take it easy on the name-calling?" Draco spat. With a flick of her wand, she sent him flying across the room.

"Blaise, don't! It's not vorth it!" Viktor grabbed her by the waist and tried to still her wand hand. Erick had to pry Draco off the floor. The pale-faced boy stormed towards her, his whole body smoldered of smoke. 

"What the bloody fuck is wrong with you?!" He snarled. "I know as little as you do, dammit! There's no need to fry my arse just because _my father won't tell me shit!!!" _

"Then where the hell is your father?! What arrangement did he make with my dad?!"

"I don't bloody know!"

"How come you don't bloody know, you little shit?!"

"Because I'm too bloody disgusted to ask him! Now shut the hell up!"

Blaise looked at him curiously then. His face grew pink. Viktor cleared his throat.

"If you vant to know verr he is … ve can ask the scrying pool."

"Viktor!" Erick hissed, but the taller boy held up his hand. 

"This is the profezzor, Erick. If he is in trouble only ve can help him." Blaise tucked her wand back in her holster. 

"Let's go then."

"I'm coming too," Draco said pulling on his cloak. Erick glanced warily at Viktor.

"He is as much involved." He drew out his wand. "Ve must hurry before everyone is out of bed. If ve are caught, I don't know how to spare you from them."

"We can handle ourselves," Blaise assured him as Draco's face paled again.

The four of them stealthily made their way up the castle. The clocks read half past five, but daylight hadn't surfaced and Blaise didn't expect it to for a long while. Viktor led the group while Erick stayed in the back, covering up their footprints with his wand.

They reached the spiral stairs when a door suddenly opened and a tall wizard stepped in front of them. He peered at the students on the staircase, spotting Blaise and Draco immediately.

"Intruders! Intruders invading the scrying pool!" Viktor waved his arms in front of him.

"No, Profezzor Divac, these are guests!"

"Intruders!" The professor bellowed louder. Light began to fill the halls as Viktor stumbled aside as the wizard tried to grab Blaise.

She flung out a bead that filled the hall with a blinding light. She charged forward, pulling Draco with her. She hopped the remaining stairs and pushed Draco across the fourth level and through the narrow opening that led into the scrying pool. 

"You've gone mad, Zabini!" He sputtered as she sealed up the opening with thorny vines made of diamond stone. She turned to him.

"This's your father's fault, Malfoy! If anything has happened to my dad, _anything, your days in this world are numbered. Now step aside so I can work this thing."_

Blaise stood at the rippling pool's edge. Draco sounded worried when he said, "Hurry up then. Those thorns won't hold up forever."

She swiped her hand over the pool like she saw Viktor do. Nothing happened. Blaise closed her eyes and concentrated … _I want to see my dad, she thought as she swung her hand over the pool again._

"What're you trying to do? Fly over the damned thing?" Draco scoffed. Blaise sneered at him. 

"Let's see you try it if you're so damn clever!" He bit his lip.

"Try shedding some blood on it."

"What?!"

"Blood, Zabini, blood!" He snapped testily as the commotion beyond the thorns grew louder. "You've seen the interior decorating here, haven't you? What else would be barbaric enough for that blasted contraption than to spill some of your DNA into it?!"

For once, the bugger had a point. Blaise scratched her wrist against one of the thorns and pumped her fist over the water. Several drops fell into the water, making it sizzle a brilliant red. It glowed brightly as Blaise struggled to peer into the pool. 

Visions flashed sporadically across the waters. She saw Oma lift a staff high over her head and charged into a sea of black hoods, her mum slammed against a wall, McGee screamed grabbing at someone's robes, Cedric stood beside someone as a flash of green light bolted in front of them. Blaise saw herself running across a field with tears in her eyes. 

"What's happening, Zabini?" She heard Malfoy asked her quietly. Blaise shook her head and focused on the waters.

"It's confused," she mumbled. She let more blood fall into the pool. "I command you to show me where Zonarius Zabini is!"

More pictures flashed. Pansy covering her face with bloodstained hands, Morag coughing up blood, Susan falling from her grasp. And Draco's face flashed before her with tears cascading down his expressionless face. Blaise staggered backwards as she suddenly saw the face of Harry Potter flash across the waters. His wand aimed right at her. 

Undaunted, she bellowed, "SHOW ME ZONARIUS ZABINI!" and dove her hand into the water. The pool crackled.

The fuming waters suddenly spouted above them and spread itself in a thin sheet of brimming liquid. The blood-red watery film turned black, and the steam cleared away to give Blaise the vision of her father. 

_Zonarius Zabini stood in front of a stone-faced court. Shackled in chains, he struggled and growled at the guards._

_"You said you'd release my wife! I've agreed to this only if you released her!"_

_"We have reason to believe your whole family presents a threat to this community, Mr. Zabini. Your flight out of the country has only cemented our suspicions."_

_"I object to this!" Someone said rising out of the court. Blaise recognised Padre in his dark indigo robes. "I have given the Wizengamot the statement of Sirius Black being spotted in Hogwarts. It has no link to the Zabini family-"_

_"I'm the Minister here and I say I may throw out any ruling of this court!" The man sputtered.  _

_"This's not a dictatorship, Cornelius!" Padre roared. But the guards continued to pull her father away. Someone wept as he passed. Vanessa knelt there, shackled. Zon reached to stroke the side of her cheek. She faintly mumbled as the guards dragged Zon away. _

Blaise pulled her hand out of the scrying pool.

"I know where that is," Malfoy said quietly. "It's in the Ministry of Magic. It's in the heart of London. Underground." Blaise turned to him. He shook his head. "I don't know what to say, Zabini. I don't know if my father was innocent in all this or not." Blaise stared up at the sky.

"How can we get there?" She palmed her belt. "I don't have any orbs linking me to the Ministry." She squinted up at the sky. She suddenly whistled.

Savier cawed in the distance as he swooped downed and bowed before Blaise. Draco stepped back. 

"A-a Peruvian V-viper-" He stuttered. 

"I know, isn't it wicked?" Blaise smiled weakly. "Are you coming?" He glanced behind him. They both heard Lucius' voice ring threw the wall.

"Draco? You come out here this instant! We are guests here! I must say …" Draco's lip curled as he turned back to Blaise.

"No … I mean to have a word with my father," he said evenly. "Besides, if your dad was double-crossed, I'm the last person he'd want to see." He took out his wand and aimed at the thorns. "I won't tell them where you're going." 

Blaise stared at him trying to gauge him with her Bullocks meter. "Why do you always flip over from being a pain in my arse to an actual ally?" Draco smirked at her.

"Merry Christmas. Consider it a gift."

"And consider being in your debt? Fat chance." She suddenly closed the space between them and grabbed his collar. She narrowed her eyes. Filled with a desire to smash his face in, yet torn with his unpredictable bouts of decency, she really had no idea how to treat this vile creature. 

"God, you annoy the piss out of me, Malfoy!" She growled. 

And then planted a crushing kiss on his lips.

She pushed him away, hopped on Savier and grabbed the reins.

"W-what the hell was that for?" He asked swaying on his feet.

"Mistletoe. We're even now and you know it." She spat on the ground and kicked up her heels. Savier gave a mighty roar and flew off the platform just as the barricade of thorns blasted away.

"Verr is she?" The guard demanded. Draco pretended to look down the waterfall. Everyone mimicked his actions. As Viktor, the guard, the professors, and Lucius quarreled amongst themselves pointing at the pool, Draco snuck a peek into the sky.

"What a wildcat," he mused as the clouds swallowed up the fleeting image of the witch and her beast. 

Unglued 

"Find my father, Savier," Blaise whispered as she rested her head on the dragon's neck. Savier crowed. He flexed his wings and tore through the sky leaving everything they passed in a blur. The wind tore at her skin and her cloak. But she held fast and willed Savier to go faster. Every minute, every second mattered. 

Blaise knew they had reached England when she felt the sun on her skin. She dusted the frost off her hair and peered below her. She could make out several buildings below. Muggles and wizards everywhere. She simply couldn't enter the place from the front portal, but Malfoy's word gave her a solution. 

Savier dropped her on a building close to the entrance of the Ministry. She emerged out of the building and found the nearest vent that lead to the sewers. She had just reattached the lid when Padre emerged from the entrance. 

He whispered hurriedly to a tall man in blue robes. 

"I've spoken with Madame Bones and the others. They have agreed to release Vanessa. But I'm afraid they can't look into Zon's sentence yet. They'll have to develop a decree that can override this hogwash Fudge has pulled." The usual brightness in his gaze was gone. "That could take weeks, months. And I'm afraid Zon would rather die than suffer in that place long." The tall man nodded curtly. 

"And where is my granddaughter? Have you heard word from Karkaroff yet? I can't believe my son would leave her there. How can he think she'd be safe?"

"Easy now," he sighed, placing a bracing hand on the man. "You have to get back. I will arrange to speak with Zon tonight. Maybe if he knew Vanessa is okay, he'll be patient. And I haven't heard word from anyone concerning Blaise."

"I should go there. I should've told her something, anything to ease her mind. To ease Zon's mind."

"Take it easy, Armando," Padre said loudly just as several wizards approached them. The tall man disappeared into the crowd of muggles, leaving Padre to talk with the group. 

Meanwhile, Blaise held an orb in her hand. It glowed as she dabbed a drop of blood on its surface. It hummed as it floated in front of her. Its faint light brushed against the mildew and mold on the pipes' walls. Blaise hiked her boots higher as she waded in stagnant water halfway up her calf. Water streamed through vents above her, while rats scurried away from the light and her determined strides.  

"Seek those that carry that blood," she whispered pushing the orb forward. It buzzed and zipped through the damp tunnels. Blaise ran after it feeling her hopes rise. It meant her folks were still here. They hadn't been shipped to Azkaban yet. 

Every time the orb bumped into the end of a tunnel or against a wall, Blaise would blast it open and find another maze of tunnels. She thought they would never end. And she surely lost her way after several turns. 

The stench wore her down. She didn't have any nourishment before this, so she felt weaker with each step. But the thought of food in this shithole made her retch. She followed the orb until it ended at a granite wall. Blaise kicked at it in frustration. She felt too weak to try to break this open. She leaned against the tunnel and cursed under her breath.

A faint rumble boomed beyond the wall. Blaise stirred from her daze as another rumble thundered. She placed her hand against the granite and felt it shake. Something stirred beyond it. She backed away as she heard a muffled voice boom, "REDUCTOR!"

The dust settled and Blaise found herself staring at her dusty, grimy father. He staggered through the hole he just made and sent several shots of his wandgun behind him. 

"Pa!" She called. He swung around in surprise. She grabbed his cloak before he could question her presence. "Hurry! I blasted through the rest of the walls. Savier is waiting for us in the clouds. Hurry, Pa!"

They raced through the tunnels with Zon's pursuers close behind them. Blaise didn't know if she made the right turn several times. When she saw light, seeping through the tunnel from above, she dashed forward. Gripping the ladder, she pulled her dad in front of her.

"Go, Pa, go!" He tried to object but Blaise already swung her wand and blasted the ceiling of the tunnel. Cement fell in huge chunks blocking the guards chasing them. She pushed her dad up the ladder and out the sewer. 

He circled his wand around them and covered the alley with a dense fog. They ran across the street to the tallest building as tires screeched on the pavement. No one saw them slip into the apartment. They blasted through the doors heading into the roof, just as Savier swooped before them. 

Blaise hopped on the dragon. Suddenly, Savier whined and bucked. Blaise tumbled to the ground as the dragon howled painfully. She looked up and saw several hooded figures hovering around the roof. Blaise cradled her head in her hands as her mind filled with memories she longed to forget. She cried out.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Bellowed her father. A massive silvery figure ran rampant knocking away the Dementors surrounding them. He lifted Blaise on Savier's saddle and jumped on the reins. Savier regained focus and soared into the clouds just as the fog lifted, forcing the Dementors to return to their catacombs in the Ministry.  

They flew back to Durmstang at breakneck speed. They landed at the foot of the bridge where they were greeted by a site for sorry eyes.

"Zonarius!" Oma cried. She had on a rather large brown beard and some dingy robes, but Blaise recognised the violet eyes and mop of unruly blonde hair. Oma paused mid-step when she saw Blaise standing warily beside her father. Oma turned to Zon. "I thought I said to keep her in Hogwarts! Do you know what you've done, Zon? The whole Ministry is searching for you now. _With a female accomplice_. Now you've gone and made your own daughter a fugitive!"

"He didn't do anything!" Blaise snapped before her Pa could answer. "I followed him. I searched for him in the sewers. I used that bloody scrying pool. I broke all the rules myself. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat!"

Mother and son exchanged glances. "Well, I can't say I have no fault in her being like this," Oma muttered. Blaise threw up her hands.

"Stop talking about me as if I'm not capable of 'adult-speak!' I want to know when we're going back for mum!" Zon nodded but Oma shook her head.

"Your mum has been released, Blaise. Yes, released, Zon. But not under the conditions you wanted. I'm … I'm very sorry." 

Pa sighed. "So … they sent her to St. Mungo's." Blaise looked at each of them.

"Why? What's wrong with her?" 

"She couldn't handle it. I knew the Dementors would break down the little reserve she had left. Damn Fudge. DAMN YOU, FUDGE!" Zon hurled his hat into the canyon. Blaise stepped back. She had never seen her father this upset before. 

"So how do we fix this?" Oma asked quietly. "I will not suffer having this whole family hunted down like rats. And Blaise … she's young, but … I know you can take care of yourself, sweetie."

A lump caught in her throat. "What are you trying to say, Oma?"

The former Auror sighed. "I am already in hiding. And your father is safe in Durmstang. The Bulgarian Minister of Magic is a good friend of mine. He trusts our family. And Vanessa will be safe. The Wizengamot had made certain-"

"The Wizengamot has done nothing for us!" Pa hissed. "If the bloody Wizengamot really wanted to help us, they would've laid the law down before Fudge sent the guards for you! And you think I will trust this people?! Blaise will stay here with me. In Durmstang. She is safe where I am."

"Zon, you're letting your emotions get in the way," Oma said. "She's safe only in Hogwarts. And it's not just because of Dumbledore! Trust me, Zon. Blaise belongs there. Not in this icebox of a castle."

"I lost my wife to her madness, Ma. I refuse to lose my daughter!"

"You're not losing her! Don't you see, Zon? If Blaise stays with you, she'll be targeted as well. She can never return to England. And if they caught her and she returned to England, the Ministry would declare her orphaned. _Fudge_ would appoint a guardian for her. At least now, if Blaise remains in Hogwarts, you still can have your say. You can choose the guardian for her. And she will be free to go where she pleases. We all can't be fugitives here. And … she can visit Vanessa." Oma turned to her. "I know how much you hate this, Blaise. But this's what will happen."

Pa sighed and closed his eyes. "I … I can't decide this. Blaise dear … y-you have to decide. I've already made my path. You must choose yours."

Blaise turned her back to them and wrapped her cloak tightly around her. She walked to the edge of the canyon and stared into it as the artic wind lifted the hair off her shoulders.

Papa was right. Durmstang was his path, not hers. But it meant leaving him. And it wasn't just him she'd be leaving. Blaise would have to say good-bye to the chance of ever having her family together again.

Unless … she suddenly imagined herself sitting at the head of the Wizengamot, exonerating the family from all the shit Fudge materialized against them. But this seemed mundane for her taste. She wanted real vengeance.

She might as well give Fudge what he suspected of the family. He thought the Zabini's were criminals, capable of heinous things … Blaise would give him a real reason to believe it.

Then she remembered one minor detail. 

She's only thirteen bloody years old.

"Blaise?" Oma called softly. She turned back to them.

"I'll go back to Hogwarts."

The Good Daughter

Before she went back to Hogwarts, Blaise spent her New Year at Vanessa's bedside. They moved Mama from St. Mungo's to a wizard friendly muggle institute. It had been her parents' wishes. Well, her father's at least. Vanessa wasn't in any condition to speak for herself.

Blaise tucked another pillow under her mum's head as Vanessa stared up at the ceiling. She didn't respond much to conversation, so Blaise just rested her head close to Van's arm quietly. The woman didn't recognise Blaise at first, she still didn't. When the nurse said her daughter came to visit, Van's reply was, "I have no daughter. I never had a child."

And when Blaise called her Mama, Vanessa shrank away from her and insisted Blaise call her "Vanessa. Or Van. That's what my husband calls me. I call him Zon. He's really cute and smart and funny. Where is he? Can you get him for me?"

Van slept now. Frankly, Blaise preferred it this way. It gave her time to think about her situation.

Most of her friends would often wish their parents gave them some room. They complained about the rules. Dealing with their siblings. She had those complaints as well. But they were few and far between. She complained more about her school, the people in her school, the lack of recognition she got at her school -- She focused more on herself frankly. She took her folks for granted. Sure they had problems, but she never thought she'd lose them. 

Blaise brushed the hair from Van's face. She envied her mum's wavy, raven black hair. Blaise often wondered why she wasn't born with dark hair. She had read somewhere that the genes for dark-haired people were stronger. But she was the carbon copy of her blonde, blue/violet-eyed dad. Thinking of them like this only made her insides feel heavier.

She didn't notice that Vanessa had opened her eyes.

"Blaise?" She whispered. Blaise nearly fell off her chair.  

"You know me? That's right. I'm Blaise. I'm your daughter, Blaise." Vanessa shook her head.

"Listen to me, child," she whispered, pulling Blaise to her. "I'm not myself. Whatever I say … whatever I do from this point, it's not me. I … I wish I could tell you everything."

Blaise sighed in relief. "But you can, Ma! You can just tell the doctors that you're okay. And we can go back home. You shouldn't pretend you're crazy if you're not. I'll get the nurse …"

"Wait! Where are we? Are we in St. Mungo's?" Van swished her hand as if she held a wand. 

"No … we moved you to an institute. It's run by an all muggle staff. It's quieter here. And the Ministry can't bother you."

"Why? Why am I with muggles?"

"The Head Mediwizard in St. Mungo's declared your condition wasn't magically invoked. He said it's all in your head." Blaise bit her lip. "But you don't have to stay here, Ma. We don't have to go back to Creer Upon Libby. We don't even have to live in Oma's castle. Pa's in Durmstang. We can go there. It doesn't matter to me." She said anything that came to her mind. 

"Yes … yes. We have to get out of here." Van smiled. Blaise stood from her chair.

"We're going to be just fine. You're okay. Once you see Pa, you'll feel much better. It's just been a long … half a dozen of months," she snorted. It was brilliant. Ma feigned insanity to have the Ministry go easy on her. Now they can find Oma …

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!"

"Huh?" She spun around. Van pulled the bed sheets to her chin. "I-I was just going to tell the nurse."

"AND LEAVE ME HERE WITH HIM?! YOU'LL LEAVE ME WITH HIM?!"

Blaise looked around the 8x8 cube of a room. "There's no one else here, Ma. Just me and you."

"No … no. I see him standing there. He's waiting for you to leave so he can have his way with me again. You see? THERE! THERE! He's mocking me! MAKE HIM STOP! MAKE IT STOP!!!"

Vanessa thrashed on the bed and pulled at her hair. Blaise dove for the woman's hands to prevent her from gouging her own eyes. 

"I HATE YOU!!!" Vanessa screamed at the wall. "YOU RUINED MY LIFE!"

"Ma! Stop it! It's okay! No one's here, Mama! I promise-"

"GET OFF ME! I'm not your mum! I have no daughter!" She pushed Blaise away. Blaise slammed against the padded wall just as the nurse opened the door. Soon, a whole swarm of them circled around her mum and Blaise was ushered to the hall.

"Where's Zon? Where's my husband?" She heard Van cry. "He'll understand. I told him everything and he promised me it won't happen again. Where is he? He said it'll be different. Zon! ZON! Please come back … I'm sorry … I'll try, Zon. I'll try …"

"I'm sorry you had to see that," a nurse said guiding Blaise down the hall. "We'll take good care of her and let you know her progress. We can't let you stay longer, I'm afraid. Visiting hours are over. We can reschedule another visit if you'd like?"

"No, thank you," Blaise sighed. "I've seen enough."

She wrapped her cloak tightly around her as she stepped out of the asylum's gates. She pulled out a bead and let it hover over her fingertips. A shadow loomed to her side. 

"You shouldn't linger here too long. Someone might notice."

"You're one to talk," Blaze snorted glancing warily at the bearded man in front of her. "Your disguise will only take you so far, _Armando_." She stared gloomily at the orb. "She said she's not my mum. She said she never had a daughter. I'm starting to believe it."

"I … Why would you say that …"

"Oma, I'm not stupid. You don't think I'd notice? I used to think Vanessa was like this because of something I did. When I got over that, I began to notice the strain in my folks' relationship. I noticed there's something else troubling her. Something bigger than work, her family, her health."

Rhonda said nothing from the guise of her beard. Blaise kicked a pebble away from her boot.

"You're not the only who has kept secrets, Oma. I have memories I'd rather forget … but I can't. And I've been forced to think about them. More so now. And things that flew over my radar when I was younger, well now they make sense."

 … _Leave her alone, _frère_. Please, don't touch her. DON'T HURT HER! … __Frère. She called him _frère_. Antonin Dolohov. Why was Vanessa D. Zabini calling him __frère?  _

"What are you saying, Blaise?"

_Frère_ is French for brother.

"Exactly how did she become a Death-Eater?"

"Blaise … this really is something you should talk about with your parents."

"But neither of them can talk to me at the moment, can they? I'm sure you have some part in this. It's a bit unusual that I look nothing like my mother when physiologically she has the stronger DNA. And Vanessa has been rambling on and on about her life. Either she must really hate me, or she really never had a child, because that's the only way I believe she'd forget she gave birth to one."

"Don't feel guilty, sweetie. Vanessa's condition is not because of you. You can't count the many times the woman has told me what a blessing you are to her life. She was adopted by the worst sort of wizards. They treated her like a muggle. Made her their servant. It wasn't until she got her acceptance letter to Beauxbatons that the family realised she was of wizard descent. No, Blaise. Vanessa is haunted by the demons in her past … I'm afraid the exposure she had to the Dementors triggered some memories she long tried to forget."

"She was getting better!" Blaise snapped. "She wasn't worrying so much anymore. She actually baked some cookies. She was almost over it. She was so close. Then that bastard Sirius Black has to break out of Azkaban. Why ARE you still trying to protect him? Why doin't you just tell the Ministry that you know nothing? Why don't you just cooperate with Fudge and help the idiot find Black?!"

"Blaise, I have a sense of duty to the boy. I'm his godmother! Better I find him first before the Ministry does. You don't know Sirius the way I do. Even your father will agree

"Why did you still believe in him?!" Blaise cried. "My god, you make him out to be some freaking saint when he's not! He tried to stab Ron Weasley, did you know that?! He stabbed a portrait, so why not a kid, right? A mass murderer just naturally digresses to that. Oh wait. YOU THINK HE'S BLOODY INNOCENT!"

"I can see why you'd be upset. But keep your voice down." She glanced along the empty road. Blaise threw up her hands. 

"Are you aware that none of this would've happened if you hadn't acted the way you did 13 years ago?" Oma bit her lip.

"Had I known what my actions would do to this family, I would've never moved a muscle. Looking back, I see I acted very selfishly. I was just trying to make sense of the whole situation, but failing. No matter how much I knew Sirius or believed in him … I shouldn't have taken matters in my own hands."

"But look at you now, Oma! You're on the run. Not only that, you sucked my folks into this. And you still don't think this crusade of yours hasn't affected us?"

"Blaise, look. You're angry. I knew you would feel like we abandoned you and left you in the Diggory's care. If you want to give up the family name and take on theirs, I wouldn't blame you." Blaise rolled her eyes. 

"Oh forget this. I'm not going to disown my family name just because you're convinced Black's a good guy. I know how a misunderstood person feels like." Blaise wasn't really in the mood to talk about the fugitive. Something else gnawed at her mind. 

She closed her eyes, struggling to calm her temper down. When she regained composure, she said evenly, "Did you know that before this asylum admitted Vanessa, they gave her a complete physical? It's standard procedure. It helps in case the patient was traumatized by any physical violence done to them." 

Rhonda said nothing. Blaise frowned.

"I saw the chart, Oma … She's barren."

Oma cursed under her breath and whistled. A carriage pulled in front of the asylum's gates. Blaise flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked down the sidewalk, ignoring the carriage.

"You're not leaving this conversation at that, Blaise," Oma snapped. Blaise narrowed her eyes and spun around. 

"Then tell me _something, dammit!" She snarled. "This family's torn apart! But should I even bloody care? Is this my family at all?!"_

Blaise didn't wait for an answer. She stomped inside the carriage. Rhonda followed. She closed the door and sat opposite the young witch who scowled venomously at her. The carriage lurched forward. Rhonda knocked on the roof and Rusty kicked up the reins and sent the carriage speeding into the sky. 

"I swore to your father that I wouldn't tell," the old woman sighed, pulling off her beard. "But you have to know, sweetie. Ignorance is not always bliss." Her gaze seemed far as she turned to the window. 

"First thing you must know, Blaise. There is no such thing as perfect. Everything needs work. Things like wisdom, friends, success, love … they all need a little work to meet your particular satisfaction. Are you with me so far?"

"Either way I see it, Oma … my father had an affair with another woman. And who is that witch? Did she back out when she found out he was a Zabini? Went for greener pastures? Or was she some good-for-nothing mistress who just wanted to ruin my parents' marriage?!"

"Blaise, it's not what you think. They wanted you more than anything, even if it meant turning their lives upside down. Before you curse the poor woman any further, let me tell who she is: Gwenyth Diggory." Blaise flinched. 

"McGee?! …" 

"Then … Cedric's my brother?"

Suddenly, she saw it. The blond hair and heart-shaped face, something she just thought she inherited from her father. But she also saw similarities in their complexion, their noses, to the way their eyes crinkled when they smiled. And even if his eyes were grey and hers were blue, they both had the same shape, with the upward tilt at the corner of their eyes. They even had the unusual joints in their wrists, where the bone didn't show and the arm just smoothly joined to the hand, almost like a caricature. They also laughed the same tune and made the same gestures when excited. Most of all, now she understood the connection she had with Cedric that bordered on something almost psychic.

Oma smiled weakly at Blaise's dawning expression. "You see it once the truth is told. I placed a secret-keeping charm on the two of you, so no one would see the obvious. Not even Cedric knows, not even Amos. It's kept within these walls, Blaise. And it has to stay within these walls."

"Believe me, I thought keeping the truth from you was a mistake. But … times were different when you were born. The Order was losing their top spies. A mole was in the Order itself. Any information that could be used against anyone on our side was taken very seriously."

Then Rhonda told her how they covered the pregnancy. How Gwenyth made up an excuse to leave for the last three months of it to deliver Blaise. How Zon pleaded with Gwenyth to give Blaise the Zabini name. How she only agreed when he promised she could see Blaise grow up beside Cedric, even if neither knew their true relation.

"Gwenyth initially wanted to keep you in her family. She believed Amos wouldn't doubt you were his daughter. But Zon … he really wanted to raise you. He offered to marry Gwen if she divorced Amos. They'd raise you and Cedric together. But Zon realised he couldn't leave Vanessa. Her identity compromised, she had fled the Death-Eaters. And he still loved her. It meant breaking Van's heart with the truth, but Van had surprised him when she agreed to pretend she gave birth to you. They both knew she couldn't have children. Van's way of coping with the affair convinced Gwenyth to let you go."  

 Oma sighed tiredly and replaced the beard on her face. 

"Your parents will always be Van and Zon, Blaise. But Gwenyth has always been a part of your life. Now you know the truth. But the truth won't always set you free. The Ministry assumes the Diggory's have no relation to you and have to agreed to be your guardians simply because they are concerned neighbors. If they found a much closer connection existed between our two families, well … you know what could happen."

Blaise leaned back in her seat. "Which only gives me more reason to live by myself. Rusty's in the castle there. He counts as supervision."

"He's not considered a wizard being. I think his race is still classified as beasts. Besides, thirteen isn't the legal age to live on your own, Blaise."

"What's the point in arguing?" She groaned. "You're taking my arse to Creer Upon Libby. Fine. I'm too young to live on my own, yet old enough to know all the skeletons in my family's closet. I won't be surprised if I go mad myself from all this bullshit."

"Blaise …"

"No … I know what I'm supposed to do, Oma. And I will. Like a good daughter I will." She hissed the last several words.

If Oma didn't believe her, she didn't say it aloud. "We're still in your life, Blaise. Family's family. Blood is blood. We'll be in touch soon just …"

"Don't hold my breath," Blaise muttered. Rhonda smiled faintly then with a _pop! she disapparated from the carriage. _

She stared out the window until she caught the trees in the orchard, and the great hulking Oak. She told Rusty to drop her off in the orchard. And announce her arrival to the Diggory's. Blaise didn't want to endure any questions. She didn't know how she should react around McGee anymore. 

"Knew I'd find you here," Cedric called climbing up a few branches in the Oak to find Blaise sprawled over the thickest branch like a lazy jaguar. "Mum says it's a bit too cold for you to stay out so late. There's some stew in the kitchen. And hot chocolate if you like."

"So, you're talking to me now?" She said stiffly. He stared at his hands.

"I'm sorry, Blaise. A thousand times sorry. I knew what I said was wrong the second it left my mouth. I know you're in a trying time right now and …"

"I don't need your pity," she scoffed. She turned her back to him. "You're only talking to me now, because that squinty-eyed witch isn't hanging off your arm at the moment."

"Her name's Cho."

"Cho, Ho, Blow. I don't fucking care."

"Why do I bother?! Honestly!" He sighed.

"Ask your mother!" She spat back. He jumped down the tree and stared up at her.

"Well, are you coming down or what? You're going to freeze out here. And don't expect me to pry your icicled arse off this tree in the morning. We have to be back on the train bright and early tomorrow."

"Really? Better start primping now for your bitch then."

"She's not my bitch, Blaise."

"Oh, that's right. _You're_ the bitch." 

Cedric crossed his arms. "Are you done with the name-calling?" Blaise sat up from her branch.

"Are you mad yet?"

"A little put off … but no … not yet."

"Is McGee putting you up to this?"

Cedric rolled his eyes. "Blaise, please. _I put myself through this. Now get your arse down here now. I'm cold and hungry. And I got your present waiting under the tree."_

She climbed down and scowled up at him. Cedric smiled goofily at her.

"Race you back to the house!" He sped away kicking up the snow in a flurry mist. Blaise laughed and threw a snowball at him to slow him down. She quickly wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye and chased after him. 

She was home. 


	10. The Goblet of Fire

This chapter has two types of narratives. Cedric's point of view and Blaze's. Just a heads up. Hope it doesn't confuse anyone. ^_^ Title: The Blaze of Blaise Zabini by Nengski

***********

Chapter Nine: The Goblet of Fire

June 25, the Last Task

Morag scooted over giving Blaise room to sit beside her.

"I wonder what they'll encounter in that maze?" Pansy wondered aloud. "You think they'll have vampires and such?" Draco cringed while Blaise shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe it's like the obstacle course Professor Lupin set up for us last year."

"Oooh! But facing a boggart as a Grande finale seems pretty tame considering they had faced a dragon in the first task. On second thought … What if they faced all the creatures they fear the most?!" Morag squeaked clasping her hands together. "I'd wet myself if I had to face a Manticore!" 

"Don't be silly, MacDougal. Manticores hardly exist in this region," Draco snorted. Blaise smirked.

"Well, you never know …" Morag sniffed and went back to her binoculars.

Pansy shivered, "I'd personally hate to meet up with Granger's hairdresser if you ask me." Draco, along with his thug-sidekicks, Crabbe and Goyle, snickered beside her. Blaise rolled her eyes.

"You still can't get over the fact that she had the better hair for Yule Ball, Pansy?"

"Absolutely n--"

"Thought so."

Pansy huffed loudly. Blaise has been on her case since Draco asked Pansy to the Yule Ball last December. Not that Blaise wanted to be Malfoy's date, hell no. Pansy's haughtiness just annoyed her, as if she's the only girl who ever had a boyfriend. What's the big deal anyway? It's only Malfoy. And Blaise was at least two inches taller than the runt. 

"I wonder if Dumbledore would allow Dementors," said runt snickered. "That'd send Scarhead running out of there faster than you can say _Gryffindork. I wish they had some," he sighed. _

"Speak for yourself," Blaise snapped. 

"Take it easy, Zabini. I've got odds that our boy Diggory wins. Let's hope he's not afraid of tarantulas or three-headed pigs."

Morag turned to her, still holding the binoculars to her face. "What _would send Cedric running out of there, Blaise? Do you know?"_

Blaise shrugged again in reply. Biting her lip, she knew what Cedric dreaded the most …

_Not being there.  _

Blaise's Boggart

"Hey, Diggory! _Diggory! Cedric!"_

He spun around and found the last person he expected to say his name running towards him.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" He asked, waiting for the pale Slytherin to catch his breath.

"Blaise … trouble … locked in Lupin's office."

It didn't sound urgent but the look on Malfoy's face seemed sincerely concerned. This had to be the most Cedric or anyone in Hogwarts has seen the Slytherin Prince flushed with any emotion other than malice. 

"Come on! Follow me!" Cedric had no choice but to chase after Malfoy who sped back down the corridor he came from. In his mind, Cedric thought up over a dozen scenarios that Blaise could be in. Did she hex another student? Did she corner Peeves in Lupin's office? Did she corner Professor Lupin in his office? Did she finally kill something bigger than her temper?

His concentration broke when he heard several girls chattering nervously outside the professor's office.

"Oh my god! She's over-doing it a bit, don't you think?"

"I know. We just _locked_ her in there. It's not like the professor has one of his creatures inside … Right?"

"The way she's screaming you'd think something's stabbing her to death in there."

Cedric and Malfoy stopped in front of the group of girls. Cedric recognised some of the robes from Hufflepuff. Some were from Ravenclaw as well. 

"I thought I told you hags to bugger off!" Draco snarled whipping his wand in front of their faces. The girls implored to Cedric with plaintive looks. Cedric sighed under his breath.

"I'll handle it from here, Malfoy."

Just then, Professor Lupin's door shook from within, and Blaise's voice rang through.

"NO! Get away from me! GET AWAY! STOP IT!"

Cedric's hairs stood on the back of his neck. 

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU LOCK HER IN WITH?!" He boomed at the guilty-looking girls. They shrank away as Cedric tried to blast the doors open.

"I did that already," Malfoy sighed. Blaise cried out again. 

Cedric banged on the door. "Blaise?! It's me Cedric! Are you near the door? We can't get in … Are you okay, Blaise?!" He only heard sobbing. "What the hell's in there, Malfoy?" He kicked at the door. Malfoy did the same. They tried several times until they heard someone cough behind them.

"Err, did you gentlemen wish to have a word with me?" Professor Lupin asked. Blaise's scream answered the question. "Who's in my office?" He asked approaching the door.

"Blaise Zabini. My question is, Professor, what the heck is in there with her?"

Lupin's eyes rounded. "A boggart. There's a boggart in a suitcase next to my desk. She must've knocked it over. But I don't see how she doesn't use the defenses she learned in class."

"That's because she refused to step in line to tackle it," Malfoy said quietly, his face in deep thought. Cedric drew out his wand as the professor raised his hand over the door.

"Marauder Three," he mumbled. The door swung open and Cedric pushed both men aside and charged into the room.

What he saw scarred him deep in the heart. Because it suddenly opened several truths to him. Painful truths. The kind that you wished were lies … He suddenly remembered the tiny 8-year old that clung to him as he boarded the train. The smile behind the tears, the eyes filled with trust … He realised that look had long ago disappeared from her face. The letters … always filled with sarcastic optimism, the dry-witted sense of humour … how he marveled how she seemed to have aged in such a short span of years. But now, he saw the letters in his mind again and this time read in-between the lines.  

Lupin charged forward and distracted the boggart towards him as Cedric rushed to Blaise who had squeezed herself into a corner. As the professor wrestled a silvery orb back into the suitcase, Cedric placed a timid hand on her shoulder. She jerked away, keeping her eyes shut. He saw the blood on her lips, the bruises on her face. He wanted to sob just as hard as she was just then. 

"Cedric?" Professor Lupin said cautiously behind him. "Is she all right?" Just then, they heard Malfoy snarl at the girls still loitering outside the office. Cedric took off his cloak and covered Blaise with it. He'll never give them the satisfaction of seeing her like this. 

"We … we just need a little time, professor," he croaked. 

Professor Lupin eyed Cedric warily. Cedric couldn't read the expression on the man's face, but he seemed torn to leave without saying anything to Blaise who still crouched in the corner. 

"May I check of she's--"

"No," an even voice said. Cedric turned back to her. She discarded the cloak and stood straight in one sweeping movement. "I'm fine," she turned to the door listening intently on the argument outside. Then she strode to the door. She walked out just as Cedric spotted her wand on the floor.

"Blaise, wait!" He reached for the wand.

Shrieks came from the hall. Cedric bolted out of the door, discreetly knocking into the desk, enabling the boggart to escape the suitcase again. 

"Don't worry, Professor, I'll take care of it!" He waved, shutting the door as Lupin struggled again with a silvery ball. He rounded the corner and bumped into Malfoy.

"Outta the way, Malfoy!" The Slytherin folded his arms.

"You're not going to deduct points from us, are you? You saw what those twats did. They deserve what they're getting."

Cedric help up Blaise's wand. "You mean … that's not Blaise screaming?" Malfoy yawned at his puzzled expression. 

"I've got business elsewhere, Diggory. Excuse me." He brushed past him leaving Cedric to continue down the hall and into the courtyard leading towards the lake. 

Blaise wasn't there. But several girls lay sprawled on the ground. Some nursed bloody noses, while others batted at the smoke coming from their hair. Others were howling sporting mouths with several missing teeth. One girl, a Hufflepuff 7th year, stormed over to him. 

"Look what that bitch Slytherin has done!" She gestured at the gap in between her front teeth. "And Mona's eyes won't uncross and Faruza's tongue--"

"I see no difference," he said evenly, narrowing his eyes the way he had seen Blaise do. The girl backed away in shock. "She's been through enough to have you tormenting her any chance you get. As far as I'm concerned, she was easy on you."

He stalked away, leaving the girl sputtering in her boots. He wanted more than anything to pull his heart out and toss it into the lake. The empathy he felt for Blaise weighed too much. And he finally discovered what truly happened that day. The day the Death-Eater escaped and ventured to Creer Upon Libby. The day where Cedric had thought nothing happened … or maybe he did suspect … he just didn't want to know …

"Blaise!" He called when he spotted a flicker of blond hair high above the towers. He bit his lip and closed his eyes. He tried to push away the image of the boggart standing over her. But the harder he tried to push the image away, the more it stuck in his mind. Taunting him, mocking him. As if to say: _You failed, boy. You can't save her. _

Turning on his heel, Cedric ran back into the castle. He pushed past his fellow students and professors. He felt an urgency to see her. To hold her. Apologise even. But it all seemed so futile. And again, he saw her face … young, weary, beautiful, and hardened … bruised. Such a contrast to the girl he chased pixies with in his backyard. And the bitterness of it all crept again at his throat until he clutched onto a gargoyle and spat out the bile forming in his mouth.

"Dammit!" He hissed. "_Damn … it_." He wiped his chin with a shaky hand. Suddenly the gargoyle inched backward and a staircase revolved into front of him. Blaise stood there with the Headmaster behind her. 

"Ah, Cedric!" Professor Dumbledore beamed, while Blaise stared at her boots. "So Professor Lupin did catch up with you? Come in, please. Blaise and I just got done talking."

Cedric glanced from the headmaster to Blaise. She avoided his gaze and shuffled herself the opposite way. "Actually, sir, no one said anything …"

"It's all right, Cedric," Dumbledore said quietly watching him carefully. "She requested that no one bother her right now." He placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder, making him turn away from Blaise's departing figure. "Would you please come in? Have a cup of tea?"

Cedric dragged his feet behind him. On any other day, he'd wet himself to have a chance to talk with the great wizard. But right then, he wanted more than anything to be with her, his … 

"We can't always be there," Dumbledore said suddenly. Cedric took the saucer handed to him. "From what Professor Lupin told me, there was a scuffle not too long ago in his office. I've spoken to Blaise about it, but she's impressively tip-lipped about the incident. I wonder if you have anything to add since you were there?"

Cedric stared into his cup. "I don't think I'm in the position to divulge what happened in there, Professor. Umm … what did Professor Lupin say?" He snuck a peek at Dumbledore, the wizard gazed at him with a thoughtful yet prying stare.

"Only that Blaise had an encounter with a boggart. And she was unable to defend herself from it?"

A lump ballooned in Cedric's throat. He stared back at his hands, pushing away the image of the boggart out of his mind. But when that proved useless, he imagined himself there, standing in front of her, shielding her from it. It didn't make him feel any better. Because he can't wish away what happened to her. He can't climb into her head and grab that memory out of her. He couldn't do anything. She had thought the world of him … and yet he could do nothing to help her. 

He wished he never got on that train. If he didn't leave for Hogwarts, she'd be okay. He'd keep her from that encounter. Just anything as long as … He'd be there. 

"Cedric?" Dumbledore said quietly. The young man looked up reluctantly again.

"I'm sorry, Professor. But I can't. It's not mine to tell."

Dumbledore leaned back slowly in his chair. The look on his face grew suddenly weary and even troubled. "I understand, Cedric. I think I've heard enough." 

Cedric bit his lip. "You're not going to expel her, are you?" He blurted.

"Why I never considered it as an option. From what I understand, she retaliated to a prank. I, myself don't condone such things, but in a school of over a hundred students, mischief and mayhem is bound to surface. That and Madame Poppy said the parties involved will have their teeth grown back in two to three days."

"Good, good," he said distractedly. He really wanted to get out of here and find Blaise.

"You may go now, Cedric," Dumbledore said waving his hand. "And do tell Blaise I'm here if she wants to talk … I already told her that awhile ago, but it's something I don't mind reiterating now and then. Help yourself to a lemon drop, boy. They're not all too sour."

Once out of the Headmaster's office, Cedric leaned back and popped a lemon drop in his mouth. He felt his nerves unwind, the tension in his muscles loosen. He couldn't talk to her writhed with guilt and such. This wasn't about him. This was for her welfare. Her sanity. Her happiness. 

He ran his hands through his hair and pointed his boots to the corridor leading into the higher courtyards …

Watching from the Stands

"Well? What does Cedric fear the most, Blaise? You two are tight. You should know this one."

Blaise twisted her hair up into a messy bun as she avoided Morag's binocular gaze. "I don't know. I'm not his keeper. Isn't Bagman down there yet? What's happening?"

Morag twisted her lips as she focused her lens to the activity below. They were sitting high in the stands overlooking a maze of lush shrub. But even they couldn't pick out the contestants from the spectators.

"They haven't started yet," she said lowering her binoculars. "Where did you run off to anyway? Mill's been at the refreshment stand twice already."

"Just wished Cedric good luck," Blaise grinned. Someone snorted behind her. She twisted around. "What is it now, Malfoy? I can't wish Cedric good luck too?"

Draco smirked as he crossed his arms. "I just think it's tragically sweet how you fall over yourself for Diggory when he's dating that Chang witch."

"Oh, bugger off," Blaise snapped. "You're clueless as usual, Draco. Go back to drooling on Pansy's robes."

Pansy's response, "Why am I not offended by this? Oh yeah, I've heard it a million times already. At least, I'm not interested in anyone who isn't attracted to me." Blaise rolled her eyes.

"Speak for yourself, Pansy-cakes," she drawled. 

She didn't think she could handle living in the same roof with Cedric knowing the truth of their relationship. But living with the Diggory's wasn't a stretch. Blaise still insisted sleeping in her manor where just Yulee attended to her now. She had meals with them and they all left for the train station together. Cedric treated her the same way. Annoyed her whenever they were alone and protected her whenever some bloke smiled at her. And for a fleeting moment, she wondered if it mattered that he was her brother or not. It wouldn't change the dynamic they had between them, would it? So it probably didn't matter at all. And yet … she couldn't have a day go by now without her obsessing about it. She _had to tell him. He __had to know. Like there was a sense of urgency now.     _

Papa's letter to her was promising. He agreed to discuss the possibility of telling Cedric the truth with McGee. Blaise wanted it to happen. This was his last year at Hogwarts. She wanted to have a chance to tell him the truth before he leaves for Med School. And thank him for everything he did for her while he was at Hogwarts …  

Shadowboxer

"This's your favorite place, isn't it?"

Cedric edged along the wall, peeking over the ledge she had propped herself on. Blaise didn't move from her spot. She sat with her back to him, swinging her legs over the steep drop. 

"Yes … because no one ever comes here." She flicked a pebble off the palm of her hand.

"You have to be a bit more direct if you want to kick me out," he snorted.

He couldn't see past the blonde locks over her face. But her voice muffled, "You can stay." 

They sat side by side, watching the sunset before them. Cedric then turned to her. She still kept her face turned away. He knew she didn't want him to see the bruises. He didn't have to. He felt them as if they were his own. There were no words. Instead, he took her hand into his.

"I'm sorry." 

He turned to her in surprise. That was supposed to be his line. "For what?"

Blaise bowed her head. "For not telling you the truth about the Death-Eater. For playing along with my parent's charade. For wearing a mask. For everything. I'm sorry for everything I am and what I will be. And most of all, I'm sorry I misled you. I should've trusted you'd understand."

"Blaise, don't let one bad moment in your life define you."

"It's not one bad thing, Cedric. This's just the year where everything has come to a head. First, it was Sirius Black, then my folks, the Dementors, and now a bloody boogie-man. If I wasn't so stubborn, I'd jump off this ledge right now. But you know me. I'd rather live on and endure this crap rather than give those wenches an opportunity to spit on my grave. So even death isn't an option for me. Just have me committed to an asylum now, before I blow up."

"You're not going mad, Blaise." He sighed. "You're going to fight it all like you always do. Not because I expect that from you but it's what you expect from yourself."

"How can you be so sure?" She shook her head in disgust. "Must everything be something I have to endure? All I want is to have normal problems. Even at the risk of becoming shallow. Just let me have a life where I stress over my hair or my next date. None of this political saga and childhood traumas."

"In other words … you want to be more like … Hannah or someone like that?"

"Hell no."

"Then this IS your life. No matter what happens to you. Be it good or bad, you'll still be standing. That's who you are. Now what kind of challenge would split-ends be for a firecracker like you?"

"So you're saying I'm living this nightmare because I'm built for it?"

"Yes and no … I'm saying don't see it that way. I'm saying … I don't know. I'm saying anything to get you to believe in yourself."

Blaise snorted at his bluntness. Well, he had to tell the truth. He didn't want to shower her with flowery phrases, that wasn't her style nor his. He wanted her to find the strength on her own. 

"Blaise … I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say after …"

"It's okay, Cedric. Honest. I guess I'm feeling overwhelmed right now. It's not easy … seeing Vanessa fall apart. I had it locked in my head that I'd face the same fate. But … I'm nothing like her, you know? I'm not scared. I never was. I guess I just gave up a little …"

"You're not alone, Blaise. I'm here. I'll always be."

"I can't always count on you, Cedric, you know? I have to start grabbing Life by the balls and rattling it. Make it understand that I own it, not the other way around." She sighed tiredly. "Brave words coming from a witch who can't even beat a fucking boogie-man."

"He's not just a boogie-man, Blaise. He's a real threat. You've every right to be affected …"

"But I don't want to be. Can't you see that?" She turned around and hopped back on the balcony. Cedric followed.

"Where are you going?"

She shrugged lightly. "I need to study for finals. I have Defense tomorrow."

He watched her slender frame glide back into the castle's shadows. The fact that she had to go back to her dorm room and study for a third year final only made her more remarkable. His opinion of her didn't change. Even if she couldn't fight that boggart. He still thought she was the strongest witch he knew. Even next to his mum. 

The next day, one of Blaise's classmates pulled Cedric aside and handed him a note from Professor Lupin. The note read that Blaise's class would be having their finals today out in the field next to Hagrid's cabin. Cedric began to wonder why the professor would write him this when he noted the next paragraph. 

_"I've included in the course a cabinet from the faculty holding a boggart. I'm aware that Miss Zabini has a delicate issue regarding boggarts and I hoped you could be present when I tell her the news. I have no problem pulling out that part of the test for her, but she might not feel comfortable enough to discuss it with me without you there."_

Cedric bolted for the field, crumpling the note into his pocket. Knowing Blaise, she'd insist on taking the same test as everyone else. But he wouldn't stomach her enduring such torture to herself. He'll convince her it's okay to have it removed. She didn't have to prove herself this way …

"Professor!" He called the moment he caught sight of Lupin's unruly brown hair. "W-Where is she?"

The professor smiled weakly as he ran his fingers through his hair. "She's in the cabinet right now."

"But I thought--"

"She nearly bit my head off for even suggesting it." Lupin sighed. "But if she can't handle it … I've already dismissed the others. So no one will talk about it. Regardless."

"But still! You shouldn't've let her in there! If you only knew who that was!"

"I know who it was, Cedric," Lupin said sharply. Cedric bit back his lip and glared at the cabinet that rattled several meters away. 

Suddenly, it burst into pieces. Cedric and Lupin ran over to find Blaise stand wobbly from the ground. She flipped the hair from her face and touched the tip of her wand to her temple in a weak salute.

"What happened?" Cedric gasped as Lupin scribbled hastily on his clipboard.

"Full marks," the professor grinned. His lip trembled at the tips.

"But I blew up the cabinet." She frowned. "I _said_ I don't need special--"

"It's not even about that, Zabini. You earned it." Lupin sighed, throwing a mystified look at the crater smoldering on the ground.

Covered in ash and dust-bunnies, Blaise beamed at Cedric. He laughed as she took a bow. He couldn't be anymore proud than he was that day.        

It Finally Begins

Morag leaned over and tapped Blaise on the shoulder. "I have to admit though. If I didn't know you, Blaise, I would think you _fancied_ Cedric. Maybe you should tone it down. I mean, there're so many blokes here who would give their eye teeth to take you on a date. Seeing you with Diggory, keeps them at bay, you know."

Blaise shrugged. "If I lose suitors, I don't care. Cedric's my best friend. Let people think what they want." Millicent parked herself beside Blaise and offered them some candied corn.

"Who think what?" She drawled smacking loudly on her snack. Blaise popped a few kernels into her mouth. 

"I don't care if I lose potential dates just because I have guy friends."

"You mean Diggory? I don't blame the blokes for feeling insecure. He's quite a catch," Mill said squinting her eyes at the maze below. "But you know who's really insecure? Chang." Morag's eyes widened but Blaise only shrugged.

"Yeah, Cho's been quite the thorn recently, but I think it's only because she has the wrong idea. I mean … I'm not competing for Cedric's attention with her. She's his girlfriend. I'm Cedric's … friend."

"Well, Little Miss Popular can shove her perfect little head up her arse," Mill scoffed. "You knew Cedric long before she ever met him. Who the hell is she to tell him to stay away from you?"

"For a girl who seems to have everything, she sure acts like a selfish, deprived brat," Morag said narrowing her eyes to the benches where Cho and her cronies sat. Blaise shushed the both of them.

"It's okay. Cedric said he'll explain things to Cho over the summer. Thing's will be different. Well, that's what he said. I have no idea how he'll yank that out of his arse, but I guess we'll just have to wait and see." Blaise smiled at her friends' expressions. 

"What do you mean-"

"Bagman's talking! Shut up in front!" Malfoy hissed. Blaise stuck her tongue at him but she focused on the final competition of the champions. She spotted a mop of blonde hair disappear into the maze along with Potter. She twisted her skirt's hem in her hands. She felt nervous, excited, and … scared all at once. She wanted to see her brother come out holding that cup in his hand. She'd love it. But she'd be just as happy if he came out empty-handed and in one piece.

Morag passed her binoculars to Mill and Blaise. The girls took turns gazing through the lenses. Every now and then Blaise imagined she spotted Cedric somewhere. But most of the time, she'd just catch sight of Professor Moody or Professor Snape lurking around the hedges. She caught a glimpse of Oliver and his cousin Elle in the stands. She didn't feel like approaching them though. She wasn't that thick-skinned. But who knows? Maybe if Cedric wins this, they can patch things up again with the Wood's.

Maybe.

Riot at the World Cup  

The moment his fist connected to the other boy's jaw, Cedric knew he'd have a lot of explaining to do. But he didn't care. He forgot trying to impress Cho. He forgot the bugger he punched was his friend. And he forgot … Blaise could take his actions the wrong way. 

"What the hell's gotten into you, Diggory?!" Oliver snapped wiping the blood from his lip. 

"Keep your filthy mitts off of her!" He snarled jabbing his finger on Oliver's chest. It provoked Oliver to step back and pull out his wand. Cedric did the same. Cho fidgeted behind him. Oliver narrowed his eyes.

"I thought you were okay with this, mate. You were fine when I invited her to the Cup. You were fine before the game. And you were fine just a minute ago. She _is my girlfriend." Both Cedric and Blaise scowled._

"So that gives you the right to take liberties with her?!" He shook his head. "She's only fourteen for Pete's sake! Can't you go for someone closer to your age?!"

"Stop it! It's okay!" Blaise sighed before Oliver could retort. It would've taken him a while anyway, Cedric's words flustered him as they rightfully should. He had always regarded the Gryffindor highly until the man asked Blaise out on a date after winning the Cup at Hogwarts. 

Cedric remembered falling off his chair when Blaise told him the news. His first reaction was typical. He screamed bloody murder. Madame Pinch promptly kicked them out of the library for that. He stewed in indignant rage as Blaise paced in front of him, blushing and cursing like a virginal pirate. He wanted to demand she cancel this date with Oliver, tell her all men were evil swine, then storm into the Gryffindor dorm himself and beat Oliver's head into the wall. 

But he suddenly saw a tiny smile on Blaise's lips. The pink in her complexion made her quite stunning, and made her appear quite … girly. He wouldn't dare say that aloud, but he could tell this was a new Blaise pacing in front of him. She wasn't angry at Oliver for asking her out … she was flattered. 

She said this whole Oliver thing was the closest to normal she'd feel. She'll finally go through what other girls her age experienced. No more worrying about politics and other things. She'd get to be a teenager for once. And so he could not_, not let her be. _

The date at Hogsmeade went well apparently. To Cedric's chagrin, Oliver asked Blaise out again. And over the summer, Wood invited Blaise to attend the World Cup with him. It had thrown a slight chink into Cedric's plan since he had his dad purchase two tickets for them. Amos didn't need a ticket since he would be one of the wizard's working security at the game. Cedric had hoped the World Cup would take her away from the drama. Ever since their talk up in the high courtyard, he worried about her. He wanted to be a positive male figure in her life. 

Oliver seemed to have assumed that role. Sure, he asked Cedric if it was all right to date his young neighbor. His childhood friend. His best friend. But the bloke only asked after Blaise had said yes. 

And now this … kissing Blaise in front of everyone at the refreshment stand. And she clearly didn't like it. Malfoy, who was amongst the crowd of young game-goers, further embarrassed the girl when he heckled the couple to get a room. Cedric just remembered he meant to punch Malfoy in the face as well.

Someone tugged on his sleeve. He pried his eyes off Oliver's back to stare at Cho. She tapped her foot and raised her brow at him. 

"Well?"

"Well what?" He echoed. Blaise pulled Oliver away from the crowd. She seemed determined to make him listen to her. 

"Why are you so mad at Oliver? They did come here together, didn't they? They're the new couple now, I guess."

"Not if I can help it," he growled. Cho knotted her brow.

"I ask again, what don't you like about him? Just a few months ago, you were happy for him."

"Well, a few months ago, he didn't ask Blaise out on a date. Bugger didn't even ask for _my permission. You think that's respectful?!"_

"Why would he need _your_ permission?" Cho asked hotly. "Is that the code between you blokes? Is Blaise your territory or something?!"

Cedric bit down his tongue. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it? I don't understand it, Cedric. Is there more to you two? All my friends say you're close with her. And I see it too. I mean if you're just here with me because you can't have her--"

"Do you hear yourself, Cho?" He snapped. "You're listening to these _friends of yours. Weren't they the same __friends who locked Blaise in Lupin's office? They've had Blaise's number since she walked through the castle's door."_

"Well, your _friend is no saint either."_

"No one is," he said evenly. Cho looked away. Cedric sighed. He reminded himself that Cho wasn't the enemy here. Wood peeved him, not the girl he's trying to court. "Cho … I'm sorry. I just didn't like seeing my friend being taken advantage of. I'd do the same for you and anyone else who is my friend."

"Really? Will the other blokes need your permission to speak to me too?"

He answered before he considered the question. "Uh, no."

"See what I mean?!"

"Cho, there's nothing going on between Blaise and I. I've known her since we were in diapers. Can you blame me for feeling protective?"

"Well, it makes _me feel like a third wheel to your party." She crossed her arms. "My friends think I'm an idiot if I don't believe _she_ doesn't like you. And the way you carry on with her … can't you just tone it down a little?"_

Cedric stiffened his jaw. "You can't make me choose between you and Blaise, Cho. You just can't. I don't mean that in a bad way. It's just how it is. One of these days, you'll understand. Until then, you just have to trust me." He lifted her chin to him, to let her look into his eyes. "I'm not leading you on. I like you, Cho." He suddenly realised they were still standing in line at the stand. He stuck his hand in his pocket and fished for a couple coins. "Umm … you can trust me. That's all …"

Cho blushed with a tiny smile. "I-I do, Ced. I just wish you trusted me. Can't you just tell me?"

He smiled in reply and ordered their drinks. In his mind, he thought frankly: _We're not there yet. Besides, he wanted to talk to Blaise first. It was the right thing._

He never had the chance to talk to her. A riot broke out. Everyone scattered themselves among the camps. Cedric remembered grabbing Blaise before she followed a couple kids her age into the forest. They ran hand in hand through the field when the Death Mark exploded across the sky. Blaise froze … for a second.

Then she snapped. She screamed obscenities at the Mark, grabbing fistfuls of rocks in her hands and hurling them at the sky. She cursed the symbol even after it faded into the wind. She blamed it for her family's split. Her mother's decline. Her sorry state. Herself …

"When I find you, I will kill you, I swear!" She sobbed. "You weren't satisfied destroying her life, weren't you?! You had to fuck me up as well! Damn you! I'll find you! And when I do, I'm sending you to hell!"

Cedric tried to grab her hand but jerked away as though scorched. He could only watch helplessly as she sputtered profanities and shook her fists. Even under the midnight sky, a silvery light seemed to radiate from her. He couldn't tell if the heat in the air was due to the season or Blaise's temper. And finally, after what seemed like a year, she fell to the ground next to him, gasping for breath. He held her cautiously as she quieted her raging breaths. Until her outburst subsided into a hiccup. 

"Feel better?" He asked bravely. She snorted and rubbed her eye.

"Call me crazy … but yeah, I do." They stood up and turned their heads to where the Dark Mark had emerged. "Do you think they caught the sonofabitch?" Cedric stood on tiptoe and narrowed his eyes.

"Looks like the entire security for the Cup is there. They're talking to some people. I think they caught them because the people are either kneeling in shackles or very short."

"Goblins?"

"Can't tell from here." He placed an arm over her shoulder. "Let's go back to the camp. I'm sure my dad's looking for us." She hesitated. "It's okay, Blaise. Nothing's going to happen. I feel it."

They walked back and he noted a slight bounce in her step. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes," she snorted. "I know I went off back there … but I think I needed that. Figures I'd let one thing go tonight and everything else follows."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I told Oliver to piss off. Guess tonight was the night I clean house."

"So this's new-but-okay Blaise? You still feel normal?"

"I've never been normal, Ced. You know that."

"You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

"It is."

"It isn't."

"Why?"

"You're a firecracker."

"So you're saying I'm prone to exploding?"

"Okay, let me go for a different metaphor," he sighed rolling his eyes as he ruffled her hair. "Well, you're the fire that sets the firecracker. How bout that? Hey, that's why I call you Blaze sometimes. Especially when you're exasperating me. I think I'll call you that from now on."

"That's not me -- Fire, firecracker, what? I'm just a loser with stunning good looks, Ced."

"Remind me to spit on your toothbrush when we get back." 

Irrelevant and Significant

With all the four champions inside, things got a bit slow as everyone waited in the stands. It left Mill and Morag to chat loudly over Bagman's lackluster commentary (he saw pretty much what everyone else saw: Shrubbery), while Draco and friends flung charmed spitballs, down people's hair, robes, or up the nostril. Last time Blaise checked, Goyle stepped in front of Malfoy to block a 6th year Gryffindor from punching the bugger in the face.

Blaise sat quietly, using Morag's binoculars to skim through the crowd. She tired of their bored expressions. She drifted into her thoughts. It felt like everything slowed down to a standstill as she fazed out. And in that span, one can look back to a moment that is irrelevant yet significant all at once … 

She had waited for him at the bottom of the marble stairs. She had been so nervous for him lately. The fact that the first task nearly burned off all his hair didn't _quite put her ease. The dream she had the night before disturbed her. She had seen a flash of green light and heard a phoenix's song._

"Cedric!" She called just as he jumped off the last step. He grinned as he looked up at her.

"Hey, Little Blaze!" He laughed ruffling her hair. "Come to wish me luck?"

"Of course," she grinned as he hooked an affectionate arm over her shoulder. "But, honestly, I got money on Potter." Cedric smirked.

"Oh, of course, _you would." He laughed as she blushed hotly. "It's perfectly all right, Blaze. You know, mum's taken a liking to him. I won't be surprised if she invites Potter to our house or something." He snickered at her paled expression._

"Not funny," she hissed, looking over her shoulder to make sure anyone Slytherin was well out of hearing range. "Sheesh, I make one little jibe at you and you're off on a Potter tangent." Cedric winked.  

"Well, the kid's all right. Certainly makes your batch look good. Who would've known kids your age still have their wits about them?" He teased as she punched lightly at his arm.

When this task is over, she'll tell him. Her father already gave her his blessing. He's old enough to know. He might be angry. But she wanted to finally be a part of his life. She wanted him to finally be the big brother he always was to her. And she wanted to finally hug him and tell him she loved him without making him feel like there was more to it when there wasn't.

"Seriously, Ced," she paused. "I want you to do well, but just be careful okay? No matter what place you take, we're still proud of you. And you know me, I'm your biggest fan."

Cedric smiled as he squeezed Blaise's shoulder. "Don't be such a worry wart, Blaze. I promise I won't kill myself for this." He kissed her on the top of her head as he jogged down the hall backwards. "I'll see you when I get there!" He called as his blond locks bounced with each step. Blaise laughed and waved him good-bye. 

She smiled to herself, thinking of this. When … from the maze, a Champion screamed.             

Cedric the Prefect

"Quiet down back there!" 

Cedric slid the cabin door shut behind him. He dropped heavily into the seat across from Blaise and stared cross-eyed at the fleeting scenery of mountains and pine trees. The same views he had going to Hogwarts for six or so years.

Blaise flipped a page in her book. "How did your Prefect's meeting go?"

"The usual," he grumbled. "The Gryffindors wanted to lead, the Ravenclaws wanted more benefits, and the Slytherins wanted more power."

"And what about Hufflepuff?"

"Does it matter? We're supposed to be the dumb house." 

She slammed her book shut. "Don't ever say that again, Diggory."

"What? Everyone knows Hufflepuffs are for the soft-headed. Why else am I in there?"

"Where the hell did this come from?"

He stared at his hands. "Cho won't talk to me." Blaise bit her lip.

"I'll tell you what a wise man once told me. Don't let one bad moment in your life define you."

He scratched his chin. "That does sound familiar."

"Because you said it, silly. You should take notes."

He leaned back in his seat. "You really do listen to me, huh?"

"There's no way I can get around not doing it, so yeah. I'm afraid so." They chuckled.

"Well, I hope I'm helping," he sighed.

She squeezed his hand. An action that surprised him a little because she rarely took the initiative to show her affections for anything … not since she said good-bye to him when he first left for Hogwarts. He understood now why. He squeezed her hand back.

"Don't ever sell yourself short, Cedric. You're my hero." She cleared her throat and pulled her hand back. Cedric swallowed down the lump in his throat as she flipped a page and drawled, "And as much as I can't stand Chang, I have a feeling you'll win her over. You're a frighteningly good man. She'd be a moron to not see that." He cocked his head to her.

"Was that praise I hear?" He chided. She rolled her eyes. He tickled her. He shook his head.

"You still laugh like when you were four years old. Like a witch on a helium binge."

"I do not!" She whined. "Well, maybe you're right. I can't remember."

"You don't? You know, a person's intelligence is sometimes gauged by how early in life they start recalling things. I remember the time you stole my chocolate frog and I chased you down and yanked your diapers off. Which makes me about four and you one. Thus, I'm a bloody genius."

"Ha! I remember that too. And I specifically remember leaving a 'present' for you in there. Which makes me the bloody genius of all geniuses."

"Gross. You just _had_ to remind me … Brat. But you _do remember that far?"_

"Sure," she shrugged. "I don't know. For some reason, I'm remembering a lot of odd things that I don't recall happening before. Like I see a swing and … some kids …a broken watch," she trailed off awkwardly and stared out the window. "You know how I always thought I knew Professor Lupin from somewhere? I think I know where I've seen him before."

"That would be understandable. Mum, did say they all were in the Order. Say … do you think they met the Potter's?"

"Why would you say that?" Blaise asked, blushing slightly. 

"Well, they _were well-known. Hey, wouldn't it be something if we even met Harry Potter when he was a baby?"_

"Yeah … that'd be something," she mumbled. She buried her nose into her book again. Cedric knew he lost her for another twenty minutes. He ruffled her hair before he stepped out of the cabin again.

"Tell me how that story ends, genius," he called over his shoulder.     

One Down, Three to Go

Everyone around her strained their necks to see who had sent the sparks into the air. A chill went down her spine. She had a feeling … something wasn't right. That scream sounded like the one in her dream. She raised the binoculars to her face. But instead of trying to see past the hedges and finding where Cedric was, Blaise scanned along the perimeter of the maze. 

She saw Professors McGonagall and Flitwick making their way to the distress call. Professor Snape stayed in his area. It made sense for most of the teachers to continue minding their posts. Blaise could tell they had all been assigned a particular area. Only Moody seemed to have free range of the maze.  

It struck her odd how Moody didn't recognize her at first. He had supervised in Oma's Auror training. He had remarked how he favored her of all the Aurors, saying she had the same fierceness he did. Maybe Old Moody's memory was deteriorating. It was sad to think, considering the few memories she had of Moody were filled with her laughter and Moody's nagging growl.

Before she knew it, she found herself tailing every move Moody made. His actions did seem more purposeful than the other teachers. She watched him with the binoculars for fifteen minutes or so. She noted Moody began to pick up pace along a particular wall of shrub. Yawning slightly, Blaise zoomed closer to the old Auror's face. 

Moody's glass eye focused on something beyond the hedge. He aimed his wand and muttered an incantation. Blaise's eyes widened. With the binoculars, she read his lips. 

Wait a minute. 

Did Professor Moody … Alastor Moody … just utter the _Imperius_ Curse?

Lady Blaise

When Cedric rounded the corner leading to the Great Hall, he already planned his reaction to Blaise's get-up. They had shopped for her dress robes in Diagon Alley the same week they received their letters from Hogwarts. He'd teased her a bit. Call her _Lady_; she hated that, which will be even more amusing. But he'll assure her once again, that there was no need to feel awkward. The kid was too humble about her looks. 

The doors swung open to the Entrance Hall and Cedric walked in, searching the room for Cho. He spotted Potter standing by the marble staircase. He wondered again who the boy asked. For her curiosity's sake, not his. Then something bright and golden caught his eye. He looked towards the Great Hall's doors and his jawed dropped.

Blaise stood there in her lavender dress robes, only they didn't fit her the way they fitted her before. All the tailored curves filled in perfectly on her form. She had taken the time to pull her hair up into a disheveled bun, leaving silvery blonde tendrils along her cheeks. She looked up at him and grinned. She had no make-up, just gloss. Cedric grinned back. She promptly stuck out her tongue, flared her nostrils, and crossed her eyes. His chest swelled.

She was the most beautiful girl in the room. 

"I can't believe you have no date," he said once he reached her. She shrugged lazily.

"Hey, I did get _asked. But I knew Viktor wanted to approach someone else. I just helped him hook up with a girl in my Arithmancy class. If I did go with him, he'd just gibber in his language how he should've asked the other girl."_

Cedric shook his head. "Why didn't you ask someone?"

"And be denied? No thanks."

"What makes you think he'd say no?!" 

She sighed. "He's turned down several girls already. A handful from Slytherin alone. Besides … Morag told me he asked someone already … only she was already spoken for."

"Who?!" He snorted. "Doesn't he have a clue that _you're_ in this school?" 

"Not everyone looks at me the way you do, Ced. Mostly all people see is the green and silver on my robes and steer away." She shrugged, staring at her boots.

"You're not wearing those colors now, Blaze." He noticed Cho wave to him from across the room. He turned back to Blaise and pinched her nose. "Even with those colors, you're still the most beautiful one in here."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Save a dance for me, eh?"

The Crucio Heard All Over Her Blood

Moody?! A bloody Unforgivable?! 

"What the hell?" Blaise muttered rising to her feet. Draco groaned behind her. She instinctively ignored him. The binoculars zoomed as close as they could to Moody. She couldn't believe it. She watched his wand flick and she barely noticed the profile of someone moving along the maze. The person had black hair … so it was either Krum or Potter. Krum seemed the better choice. Potter wasn't tall enough to be spotted from this vantage point.

"Blaise, get down!" Millicent whispered loudly. Instead, Blaise thought of Padre. He was watching this with the other judges. Blaise could've misinterpreted Moody's actions, but she felt an urgency to let someone know anyway. 

"Blaise?" she heard Morag call after her. But Blaise hopped down the stands and ran down the aisle. She focused on Moody again. She found him just as another scream rose from the maze. 

Blaise's hair stood on end. She'd recognized that voice, even if the hedges muffled it to a degree. Blaise knew. 

Someone was torturing her brother.  

Cedric's Last Task

When they returned home after the riot at the World Cup, Blaise had settled herself in the Diggory's front patio reading a book. Cedric had to quietly pull his mum aside in the kitchen to show her the blisters he got from trying to restrain Blaise.

"How did you get this? Were you two holding torches or summat?" His mum frowned turning his hand palm side up. 

"Shh, mum! Blaise doesn't know she hurt me a little. She doesn't need to feel bad about such a trivial thing."

His mum's eyes rounded on him. "She did this … without knowing?"

"She didn't mean it, mum. It's nothing."

"But it _is something, Cedric. Blaise needs to learn to control her inner magic. She could've hurt the both of you."_

"Mum! It's all right, please!" He whispered craning his neck to make sure Blaise was still by the patio. "She's going through a lot. You know that. So she freaked out a little. It happens to the best of us. And I will tell her. But not like tell her as if she did a bad thing, you know?" He snuck a shy peek at his mum. "Her power is the only thing she can personally control. To tell her she's losing that control could break her heart. That's all."

Gwenyth slathered on a greasy ointment on his palm and tapped it with her wand. "You really care for her, don't you?" She asked him quietly, while focusing on his hand.

"Ever since I knew I could," he snorted. She bit her lip.

"What if I said … don't get … too close?" Cedric rolled his eyes and pulled away.

"Don't make it weird, Mum. It's nothing like that."

She flinched. "Are you sure? She's a beautiful girl …"

Cedric cupped his mum's hand in both of his. "Trust me, Mum. I love her. No more, no less. I've always loved her like this."

"And how exactly do you love her, boy?"

He scratched the back of his neck and double-checked Blaise's spot on the porch.

"I think you already know."

****************************

"Are you all right?" Someone grabbed his arm. 

Cedric wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Yeah … I don't believe it. He crept up behind me … I heard him, I turned around …"

Cedric babbled on, but he wondered … why in that pain did _that_ memory flash in his mind?

"Did you hear Fleur scream earlier?" Harry asked. 

"Yeah," he mumbled. He couldn't believe Viktor would do this. The way Blaise talked about him, he seemed all right. Blaise's high regard for Krum had put Cedric at ease with the wizard. But now Krum has done this … and Blaise _trusted him. Cedric had to get out of this maze and warn her. She doesn't deserve this kind of back-stabbing. And her father's supposedly safe in Durmstang. Cedric's stomach twisted into a knot._

"We should send up red sparks … otherwise he'll probably be eaten by a skrewt."

"He'd deserve it." Cedric sneered. 

Potter and he parted ways again. Cedric realised a few steps later that he should've thanked the kid. He felt reluctant to continue through the maze now. But the sooner one of them got to the end, the sooner he can get out of this. 

He went on through the maze, wondering why at every turn nothing met him. He shrugged the uneasiness off. But Krum's betrayal seemed foreboding. It made Cedric wish something snapped at his ankles or tackle him to the ground. The anticipation of the unknown aggravated him. 

To ease his mind, he began thinking up what to say to thank Potter after the task, without looking like he did it as an insincere afterthought. Cedric smirked to himself. Wait until Blaise hears this, eh? She couldn't deny her crush on the boy after that. Potter saved her hero. The bungling, half-witted hero who couldn't recognise a ten-foot spider charging on his arse until the very last minute.  

After the scuffle that left Cedric's wits circulating somewhere by his balls, he found the Cup just feet away from his grasp. He imagined the crowd's roar when he emerged from the maze holding it high above his head. His father would weep. Mum too. Blaise would go crazy. All his friends would love this. His house would love this. Cho would love it. He'd make them all proud.

Then his gaze returned to Potter's. There the 4th year trembled, barely standing on a broken leg. He saved Cedric twice in this god-forsaken maze. Not to mention the big tip he gave him on the dragons. Potter was the real Champion, in mind and in deed. 

"No," Cedric said and scooted away from the Cup. Potter frowned and insisted. The expression on his face strongly reminded him of Blaise's own impatience. These two _had to meet. They'd probably scratch each other eyes out in 5 minutes, but that's why it's all worth it. He almost snickered aloud, but he kept his expression grim._

"Both of us."

Cedric stared at Harry. For a brief moment, he envied that he didn't think of that idea first. It seemed so simple yet brilliant. It was what should happen. He beamed at Harry and helped him up the platform. He would've said plenty of things to the kid, if he hadn't been overcome with emotion. Like perhaps, invite him over to play Quidditch sometime. Hang out with Blaise in Diagon Alley. Introduce him to Blaise. It felt like a start to a beautiful friendship. 

He even felt relaxed enough to tell Potter something he was planning to do for quite sometime. Why shouldn't Harry be the first to know?

Cedric opened his mouth just as they grabbed the handles. "I want you to meet--" he began to say.

But the howling wind drowned out his voice. They were yanked forward and his vision blurred as the cup sped them far away from the safety of Hogwarts.       

The Impostor

Blaise jogged hastily down the stands, ignoring the grumblings of the people she knocked on the head with her boot. 

"Stop!" She cried out waving her arms to the judges' box. "Stop the task!" Suddenly, Cedric's screaming stopped. Blaise paused, feeling her heart jump in her throat. "Oh no. What happened? What happened?!" People glanced curiously at her, when sparks zoomed up the sky. 

Ludo Bagman's voice boomed across the field. "Our Durmstang Champion is out of the running, folks! It looks like a race between our two Hogwarts Champs!" 

The place exploded as students cheered for their favorite. Everyone already sprang to congratulate each other. No matter who came out first, Hogwarts won. Blaise tried to shout over the crowd.

"But I heard Cedric screaming! What happened to Viktor?! Were they all hurt? Can someone check this up?!"

The spectators jostled her around until she found herself buried deep in the middle of the stands. A long way from the judges. The frenzied cheering made her dizzy. The booming music throbbed achingly in her head. And no amount of Bagman's boisterous, clueless commentary made her feel any better.

Moody used a bloody Unforgivable on Krum. She saw it. Now, Viktor's down. And Cedric screamed. And Potter. Oh, no. This had everything to do with Potter, didn't it? Why _would_ he be the 4th Champion? And her dream … the green light … it looked just like the light she saw in the scrying pool. Did Blaise believe in coincidence? Did she believe in Divination? When the topic's the safety of her brother, she'd look into everything.

Bagman's voice echoed over the stands one more time, "We've seemed to have lost _both our Gryffindor champions?! Err, could someone explain that to me? Is that supposed to happen?"_

Her stomach twisted into a knot. Blaise broke into a run, pushing past the spectators and her fellow students. Her pulse pounded loudly in her ears. Her mind filled with confusing images. And there she felt it. A terrible aching on her shoulders, or rather a sharp circle of pain clutching around her neck, making it difficult for her to breathe.

"Cedric!" She gasped and ran to the entrance of the maze. She felt a sharp tug on her cloak. She found herself staring up at Moody. 

"What're you doing, Zarinana?" He asked gruffly. Blaise's eyes widened. Senile or not … 

"Something's not right!" She blurted out holding her wand at his head. Dumbledore had already descended to the field. Moody tightened his wand as Blaise held hers steadily at his glass eye.

"Put that wand down, girl," his voice quavered at the last word. He pulled his wand from his pocket. She noted with dumb surprise that the wand was smeared with fingerprints. This coming from the man who lectured Cedric and her about wand maintenance before they even had one. 

Unless -- But it seemed insane. 

Wait. It _did make sense. _

"Who are you?" She hissed. Moody stepped back with a hesitant sneer. 

"Answer my question or I will blast that eye through your arse!"

Just then, a light flashed at the entrance of the maze. Harry stumbled to the ground holding the Triwizard Cup in one hand and --

"Cedric …" She whispered. 

The One She'd Miss the Most

He saw the light coming toward him. And he knew. At that moment he knew what would happen, he saw seventeen years of his life flash before him. 

He had to admit … It was a good life. Full of love, of laughter, even when there were tears. He could've been miserable, could've felt deprived in one way or the other, but she'd never let him feel that. She took care of him as much as he took care of her. He saw her in his mind, he felt her running for him. He wanted so much to tell her he'll be okay. And he realised, even for a good life, there was so much he didn't get to do …

He'd never get to tell his father he loved him.

Give Mum a grandchild.

Tell Cho he was in love with her.

Tell Oliver he forgave him. 

Thank Potter for saving his hide. 

And he'd never get to tell Blaise …

She was the one he'd miss the most.

He saw himself running along the river again, chasing down the pixies while she laughed and grabbed at his shirt. She told him to never sell himself short. He was her hero. For a girl like her to say such a thing … well, it made him too proud for words. 

He wanted to go back to them. To his family. What was the ending to the story, Blaise? He wanted to cry suddenly.

But then … all thought, all emotion stripped away from him. He lost sight of everything. All that lingered was the fresh scent of Nature surrounding him, drawing him in … to become one with the Earth again.  

Cold

She reeled back as the crowd swarmed around the disheveled Potter and the boy that was … Her body pulled herself away from the spectacle but her eyes wouldn't move from his form. She didn't know what she was doing, if she was waiting for something, waiting for him to sit up and say he's all right or what. Just something. Anything. 

Grief-stricken faces accompanied with garbled screams spun around her. The crowd jostled her, push her aside. Blaise cupped her head in her hands … this felt too familiar to her. 

"… You can't help him now. It's over. Let go."

"He wanted me to bring him back …"

She caught Harry Potter's eye. Just before Moody pulled him away. Just before, she saw _him. With his golden hair fanning from the brisk wind. Why is the air so cold when it's summer already? _

She forgot. Time flies fast. Too fast. She didn't even feel it slip through her hands … hands that now reached for his, trembling … Both their hands were cold.

Someone grabbed her by the shoulders. "No, no, Blaze, darling. You shouldn't be here." She stared up to find Padre trying to pull her away. His eyes misted over, fogging up his spectacles. Blaise shrugged his grip away.

"Moody didn't listen to you. He took Harry away. And … I saw him use the Imperius curse on Viktor." He withdrew his hand, taken aback. He looked over his shoulder to find Moody had indeed left with Potter.

"Minerva! Severus!" He called sharply. More softly he said, "Blaze, please, let him go."

"Potter's in trouble," she replied numbly. He said no more. He left with the other teachers, finally leaving her alone. Fudge hovered over them. He tried to shoo Blaise away. But everything went quiet in her head. She took no notice of the girls sobbing around her, of Amos' pushing against Fudge's guards. She stared again at his face. A face that looked so much like hers. Those darkened grey eyes. The mouth that told her the funniest things. The clueless expression on his face was an insult to the depth of his heart. 

She pulled him to her and cradled his head on her chest.

She always wanted to hug him. To tell him she loved him. Her brother. Her blood. And always, her best friend. 

Instead … Blaise Zabini closed his eyes.  

***********


	11. Emancipation

Chapter Ten: Emancipation

Brooding Phoenix

Somewhere in the commotion, she had broken away from the crowd. 

Blaise wandered aimlessly from the field. Stumbling over the uneven path of moss and rock. Nothing coursed through her brain. No thought, no emotion … just this numbness. 

"Blaise! What happened?!" A voice called from the stands as she passed. She didn't lift her head. 

What happened, indeed. And just as she mulled the question over in her head, certain things sprung to mind. The scrying pool, the dreams, the feeling of foreboding, her uneasiness around Moody -- Blaise felt her chest cave in.

She could've stopped this. 

"Blaise! Wait for us!"

She broke into a run, as if escaping it would change everything. It's all moot. She witnessed it happening … she was just too stupid to know the signs.

She threw back her head and roared, pulling at her hair until the tears burst from her eyes. She pumped her arms faster, pounding her feet on the grass, as the brush scratched at her skin. The grass turned to pebbles, then to pavement. Until she found herself running up the road to Hogsmeade. 

Grunting, her feet pounded faster on the dirt road, shaking her head roughly when his lifeless face flashed in her mind. The more she tried to blank it out, the clearer it appeared. The flash of light, Potter's grief-stricken face, the touch of Cedric's cold hand. Blaise bit down her lip until she tasted blood. The pain meant nothing. It was this. This heavy _thing_ weighing on her chest, her shoulders, her heart. 

Out of breath, she bent over her knees. She dabbed her lip and stared at the blood smeared on her fingertips. Why is she here and he's not?! Her lungs burned as she struggled to breathe and hold back the ache. Part of her wanted to push the pain away. The other part – the stupid one – wanted to hope. Hold on just a little bit longer. She clenched her fists, feeling her fingers dig into her palms, until nails broke skin. 

"IT'S DONE!" She yelled punching her bleeding fist into the air. "I'M DONE! I GIVE UP! IT'S OVER!" She kicked at the ground and sent rocks flailing across the road. "WHY CEDRIC?! WHY, GOD, WHY?!"

She yanked her robes off and threw them on the ground. She sunk to her knees unable to stop her trembling, her anger, her sorrow. 

"Is there even a god?" She whispered staring blindly at ground. She wanted to say yes, because it gave her something to believe in. But to believe that would mean she'd have to accept that Cedric wasn't coming back. There was no potion, no spell, no miracle out there that could bring him back to her. He was gone. And she couldn't understand. Why did she see it and yet couldn't save him? No, don't believe in a god. Not in one with such a perverse sense of humour.  

She shivered as she knelt on the road. She could see the taverns of Hogsmeade ahead. Lanterns dimly lit the windows, while the stale wind rolled dry leaves across the path. No moon in sight, tucked somewhere in that puke-brown horizon. It didn't feel like a summer night at all. Everything felt cold, quiet. Dead. 

Footsteps neared her. But Blaise remained stoic. The fight in her was gone. A pair of stiletto-laced boots stood before her.

"Get up, sweetie." A warm hand pulled at her arm. Blaise stood to find Oma standing over her. 

"W-what are you doing here? And without your beard?"

Oma surveyed the road with her steely violet eyes. "We're leaving." She pulled Blaise close to her. But Blaise back away. 

"Why?" She narrowed her eyes. "You heard what happened? Did _you_ see it coming?!"

Oma swore under her breath. 

"No. All I know is … Voldemort's back."

Blaise allowed Oma to drag her back to Hogwarts. No one noticed the old Auror stalk up the castle doors and open them with a raised palm. Everyone had sectioned off into cloisters of gossip-mongers. Analyzing the tragedy, commentating on the victim's short life, all the while drawing attention to themselves, as if by showing their sympathy they were immediately better people. Blaise overheard the Weasley Twins debating whether Potter and Diggory had tied or not. The buzz sickened her, so she kept her gaze averted to her boots. Her dumb, inanimate boots.

"Keep your chin up, girl," Oma said curtly. "This's the beginning of a war. I feel it."

Blaise wrenched her arm away from Oma and scowled at her. "What bloody war?! What do you mean Voldemort's back? Is that all you care about?! My best friend is DEAD!" 

"Calm yourself down, child!" Oma snapped. But Blaise caught a soft shimmer from her pale eyes. "Of course, I'm angry about his death. But we're not going to get anywhere standing in this corridor spitting tacks. I'm taking you to Padre."

"W-why? What did I do?" Blaise murmured as Oma gripped her arm again.

Oma kept her face turned away as she maneuvered them through the castle, passing unnoticed by the faculty and lingering spectators. 

"What did you see, Blaise? You did see something, didn't you?" She mumbled as they circled around a vacant hall. 

"What kind of question is that? I see as well as my eyes provide me." 

"And the visions you saw at the scrying pool?" Blaise bit her lip.

"What of them?" Oma's grip tightened.

"Your friend, Draco, told me that you revealed some startling visions."

"And how would I know what they meant? No one tells me anything!"

Oma rounded her eyes on Blaise. "Are you serious? After all I taught you and all your parents have confessed to you, you still think you're deprived?!"

"Don't switch this around!" Blaise blurted. "How do you expect me to have everything figured out at fourteen?! And never, NEVER did you say that the visions I had meant something. So what now? It's MY fault that Cedric's dead? Because I couldn't SEE into the bloody future?!"

"No, that's not what I meant!" Oma released her grip on Blaise and kicked a nearby gargoyle. "Bloody hell! Where is that stupid office?!" She leaned against the wall, cradling her face with trembling hands.

Blaise held back her tongue as Oma turned her back to the girl and seemingly searched for a different passageway. She noticed now that Oma had avoided her eyes, since she found her on the road. Their steps through the castle seemed without direction, frenzied, aimless circles. And no matter how steady Oma held up her own chin, her hands still shivered. 

"So … Voldemort's back … as in alive again?" Blaise murmured. They stood in front of three archways, identical and all empty. Oma cursed under her breath.   

"Not alive _again_ … he had never left. Yes, he haunted these lands as a shadow. But tonight, his presence has been felt again." She suddenly cringed. Slowly, she locked her eyes with Blaise. "The Ministry is far from our worries now, child. He's back, and he's stronger, angrier. Cedric will not be the last victim if we don't act quickly." Blaise looked away. She forced the lump in her throat back. 

"It's not your fault, Blaise. None of this is your fault. I'm sorry for giving the impression of that. Voldemort's return was inevitable. It was always just a question of when and how. Some thing's cannot be stopped no matter how much effort one puts into it. This Dark Lord's comeback is one of them."

Blaise rubbed the temples of her forehead. She finally began to feel the night's toll on her. But she was afraid to sleep. The morning would only take the last moments of him alive further away from her. 

"I have to see Dumbledore immediately," Oma mumbled steering Blaise into a different corridor. "We need a new location. The Villa's security was breached in Fudge's raid, but I think Rusty and I can get it back up. But it'll take months developing new encryptions and time is of the essence. No, we need a new place fast. I wonder …" Blaise stopped Oma's rambling to pull her into the correct stairway. "Oh, there it is. It's been a while since I've been here." 

They rounded a corner and nearly crashed into someone speeding down the corridor.

"Rhonda! What in Merlin's name--?" Professor Dumbledore braced Oma with his two hands. His gaze locked with hers. "There you are, Blaise. I was looking for you. I hope you could provide testimony that you witnessed Moody's impostor perform the Imperius Curse. I'm off to meet with Fudge now, so he can interrogate our suspect. You don't have to be there. Just let me have you sign a parchment …"

"Moody had an impostor?" Oma gawked at Blaise. She seemed outraged that the girl didn't mention that. Blaise shrugged. 

"Sure. If it means the real Moody won't be held responsible."

"Ah well, very good," Dumbledore sighed. Blaise felt his gaze linger on her, probably trying to gauge her emotions, see if she was about to fall apart. This time Blaise lifted her chin level to his shoulders. He backed away with a thoughtful expression. 

"I take it you've spoken with this impostor?" Oma said hurriedly. "Did he mention the resurrection of our well-known foe?"

"Yes," Dumbledore's voice suddenly turned gruff. "Voldemort has returned. He performed some ritual involving Potter's blood. We'll discuss it later." He implored to Oma with his eyes. "We need to convene quickly, Rhonda."

"I realise the old location will not do. For many reasons," Oma said curtly. "I'm on it, Albus. I have only one request. Let me take Blaise with me."

"Pardon?"

"What?" Blaise echoed.

Oma's jaw tensed in an effort to stop her voice from shaking. "Hogwarts' security has been breached. I would feel safer knowing my family is safe. And safe would be with me." Dumbledore shook his head.

"Harry and Cedric," Blaise flinched at his name, "were taken away by use of a portkey, none other than the Tri-wizard Cup. Please, Rhonda, believe me. Blaise is safe here."

"Albus, please," Oma bit her lip. Her voice sounded strained in the plea. Dumbledore sighed but shook his head.

Blaise suddenly saw herself standing in her dorm, facing her friends, passing by the Ravenclaws, the Gryffindors, hearing the whispers, recoiling from the sappy sobbing and condolences. She didn't want to linger in this place either. The halls had been easier to walk through knowing she'd catch him on the fly. 

But his lop-sided smile will never greet her across these halls anymore, now would it?

"I want her to come with me,"

"Rhonda, we must be rational."

"Excuse me," Blaise cleared her throat. "If it isn't much to ask … I want to be with my family. Please … Padre?"

Dumbledore's beard twitched into a soft grin. "I haven't heard you call me that in a while. I had thought the novelty had worn off." He sighed and pulled off his spectacles wiping them with his robes. "This's a terrible loss for everyone. Forgive me. Of course, you may be with your family. You all should be together for Cedric's sake."

Oma returned a stiff smile. "Ah, yes. Blaise and Cedric w-were very close."

"Indeed they were," Dumbledore fixed his gaze on Oma. Blaise thought she imagined a look of sternness in that glance but it quickly disappeared. "We will talk soon, Rhonda. The both of you. Now be swift. I will not have Fudge arrest you here. In fact, I have many tasks to assign."

"What more will you have me do?"

"I have already a handful of people I know we can count on. Old and new. You just do your part and we'll discuss more later."

Suddenly shouts came from the corridor. Blaise felt her skin prickle as Oma gripped her shoulders. Padre swept his arm over his shoulder letting his robes billow behind him, covering the two women. 

"Headmaster, Fudge has made a grave mistake. He's heading towards Potter as we speak," Blaise heard someone say.

"Lead the way, Severus." His robes flowed back to his feet allowing Blaise to catch a peek of Professor Snape's silhouette speeding down the hall of the Hospital Wing. "Make haste," Padre said to them as he swooped after the younger man. Oma tugged at Blaise's sleeve.

"You heard him. Let's go." 

So the Insane Need Friends Too

Blaise expected they would head straight to the Villa. She pictured herself buried under the blankets of her canopy bed, or sitting along the cliffs watching the blue waves below. She needed that place more than ever. To look out to the sea and feel, feel something apart from the emotion she wanted to avoid. 

But once they emerged from the Travlas Orb, Blaise found herself standing in front of a series of rundown buildings. The dimly lit street reeked of sewage and diesel, while music blared weakly from one of the houses. The residents' shadows beyond their windows showed no signs that they noticed two witches standing on their street. Blaise turned to Oma. 

"Where are we?" She whispered, wrinkling her nose when a train passed along some tracks. It sounded just a few blocks away.

"We're in London." Oma pulled out something from her cloak and slipped it over her finger. It looked like a long, silver thimble for the index finger. Encrusted with tiny rubies, it had a sharp point that with closer observation resembled a snake's head. Oma then pointed her bejeweled finger at a narrow space between two houses. They waited. 

Suddenly, a misty-blue serpent's head the size of Blaise's fist shot out from nowhere and clamped its mouth on Oma's hand. Blaise stifled her scream with a quick look at her grandmother's face. 

"It's supposed to do that. That crazy old hag always had a sick sense of humour." Oma winced as the vapory serpent sipped the tip of the thimble. Blaise grimaced noting the thing had drawn blood from her grandmother.

"It only takes pure blood," Oma sighed. "Barbaric. But we have to endure this. This place will have to do." Suddenly, a black door emerged along with an entire house seemingly squished in between the muggle buildings. Blaise noted that Oma had seen the house the whole time she wore the key-ring. Once inside, Blaise immediately disapproved. The snake décor, the moldy tapestries, the shrunken elf heads, all screamed Dark Wizard territory. But the snakes, she had to admit were hip … in a morbid, wicked sense.

They walked several feet until they came to a long corridor lined with drawn curtains. Blaise squinted through the cobwebs and dust. There she spotted the most wretched, decrepit-looking thing approach them. 

"Who goes there? Who disturbs my Mistress' home?" It hissed with a wheezy voice. Oma aimed her wand at the thing. Blaise barely could tell it was a house elf. It cowered from Oma's sparkling wand. 

"Oh, my poor Mistress! If she could see the traitor here now. The traitor comes with her spawn. But what can Kreacher do against the nasty silver-haired witches."

"Back away, elf," Oma snapped. "Call me what you will. Your precious Mistress actually bestowed _me the key to this forsaken place. Now, scoot!" The elf sneered._

"Kreacher does not follow orders of nasty old witch. Kreacher follows orders of those who belong to the noble and most ancient house of Black. Nasty old hag and her brat would best leave. Kreacher take orders from no other purebloods." Oma responded by swinging her wand closer to the elf. Kreacher scurried away mumbling and throwing murderous glances at them. 

Blaise fidgeted as Oma walked over to the fireplace and ignited some flames into the pyre. "Whose house is this? Did that thing say Black?"

Oma bit her lip and turned to Blaise. "Yes. This's the Black's home. But we are safe here. The owners of this manor have long passed. The Mistress Black had taken a perverse interest in me, as her estranged brother, Alphard, was my best friend. I admit I used it to help spy for the Order. When sixteen-year old Sirius Black ran away from this home, Alphard entrusted me to watch the boy from afar. He was the boy's godfather." Blaise dusted off an old armchair and sat gently on it as Oma threw some wood into the flames. 

"I saw some good in Sirius. He had chosen his friends wisely. So determined to walk his own path. I had your father become pen pals with him. I grew fond of Sirius and his friends. And I vouched for them to join the Order. All four boys. Dumbledore had thought they were too young. The Potter's just barely started a family, but I insisted. Not a day goes by that I wonder if I had merely enabled Voldemort's plans."

"Is that why you tried to help Black escape?"

"Yes. And more. I knew the boy was innocent."

"But … but Papa told me that he had betrayed the Potter's. Black was their Secret-Keeper."

"You're father knew wrong." Oma closed her eyes. "Dumbledore had seen to casting the charm on Sirius. But I … I aided in switching the charm from him to a Peter Pettigrew." The flames danced eerily along Oma's regal face. "Alphard was dead by then. And Sirius, well, he was the spitting image of my friend. I wanted him to live a life out of seclusion. It was what Alphard would've wanted. So, I betrayed the Order. I convinced Sirius that switching with Peter or Remus would be a better diversion. And it blew up in all our faces, since it turned out Peter was our mole all along."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

Oma snorted as she tossed a torn rag into the flames. "Guilt. The plan would've been flawless if I had not intervened. I was too proud to face everyone and admit I had been wrong. Throughout the years in the Order, I spent most of my time proving I belonged there than contributing something productive. Alas, they were all right. I was the downfall."

"But you tried to fix things."

"Yes, I tried to help Sirius out of Azkaban. And I failed. Dementors were never my specialty. Still, once in court, I saw no benefit giving the real version of events. Who could back my story? Sirius? He was guilty before the gavel was dropped. And Peter? Well, I truly thought Sirius killed him. God knows I would've blown him up if I had the chance."

"People believed I had gone mad. And I honestly can't deny it. I was mad, as in angry, as in, frustrated that the Order's demise came from my _brilliant_ idea. That an inept sycophant like Pettigrew had fooled us all. Frustrated that Voldemort affected my life again by hurting those I cared for. We almost lost you then too." Oma closed her eyes, as she swept her hand over the flames, almost embracing the pain the heat gave her.

"No one has set foot in this house for years, and I feel its anger bearing on us. The walls are getting restless. We'll be out of here as soon as I'm finished surveying this place. Keep your eye out for that elf. Stun him when you get the chance. I'd feel safer disposing of him before we go."

"Y-you mean Kreacher?"

Oma nodded curtly. "You won't have to witness it. Although I'm sure the thing won't show a wee crook of a fingernail now. He was always on my list. Alphard and I hated him. I need to check the rooms. I believe Phineas' portrait is here somewhere. If so, that's convenient …" 

Staring blankly into the fireplace, Blaise rubbed her forehead as Oma checked the other rooms. There were too many names to follow in the story. People who were guilty were innocent. People who were dead sound like they never were. But it still didn't explain why they were here. After what seemed a good hour and a half, her grandmother returned. 

"I never thought I'd set my foot again in this hellhole," Oma mused dusting off her robes and standing by the fire. Blaise did the same. "But if it's one thing Sirius' father was good for, it was providing a safe haven far from wizards and muggles alike. Unfortunately, we can't use this place until one of the kin is living here. If we should even attempt it, this house will devour us in our sleep." She dug into her pocket and pulled out a pouch filled with powder. "This line was always ridiculously secure." Oma threw a pinch into the pyre.

"Lupin residence!" She barked into the flames. Blaise stood off to the side as images swirled in the fire until the weary, grey-haired head of her former Defense instructor stared quizzingly up at Oma's face. 

"Rhonda? I take it you've gotten word?"

"Yes, and I have a location. Albus just briefed me. Is our friend there with you yet?"

"Indeed," Lupin replied. He disappeared and another face emerged in the flames. Blaise immediately recognised Sirius Black.

For a year, she had longed to see this man and challenge him. Throw every hex she knew at him; curse him for bringing her family's ruin. But Oma's story finally clicked in her head. And the object of her loathing was no longer Sirius Black. It never was. 

It was Voldemort. He had killed the Potter's, Cedric. He had ruined her friends' families and hers. He had created that army of Death-Eaters. He was the cause of the heaviness in her heart. He was the reason she could never bring herself to mourn. To care. Anything remotely caring would make her vulnerable.

"Rhonda? What have you got?" Black's voice crackled over the flames.

"Good news and bad news. I found a location."

"Bloody swell."

"It's number twelve, Grimmauld Place." Sirius cursed under his breath.

"I was disowned. I can't lay a foot in there." Oma raised her hand. The thimble key was still on her finger, dried blood stained the silver metal. 

"But I'm the Key-keeper of the most noble house of Black," she replied with a snort. "Your dear mum gave me orders to keep this key within your family until a worthy kin comes to claim it back. She never said the person had to be worthy in _her_ eyes. You know what you must do, boy … but if you decline, I will not think less of you. This place _is_ insufferable."

A long sigh followed. "I'm on my way."

Perfume and McGee

Blaise missed the last month at Hogwarts. She spent the bulk of it in London, not in the Order of the Phoenix's new headquarters but with Hong's family. What the family lacked in wand-expertise, they excelled in the art of potion-making. 

Her connections to Oma did have its benefits, and Blaise found herself sitting in the first several meetings of the Order where they managed to recruit several Aurors into the fold. She blended in with the rest of them, not asking questions or lifting her head. Her behaviour seemed very crotchety, like a female Moody. So maybe the others simply didn't realise she was a child sitting among them.

Every night for that month, she'd have dinner with the Nguyen's. And nestle into a dreamless sleep next to Hong. Blaise couldn't be more grateful for the family. Hong and she were friends during the years Blaise studied at the muggle school on Oma's island. So she didn't know much about Cedric, only that he was Blaise's friend that sadly passed away. 

The family spared Blaise from the questions and futile condolences. They gave her a small job in their boutique located along the same block as the Leaky Cauldron. Junko even gave her a discount for some new dicey undergarments that she probably won't wear for another 10 years … or until she's broke for cash and hits the streets.

It was at this boutique that Blaise's past caught up with her. The past that Hong's family was conveniently oblivious to.

The bell chimed just as Blaise crouched under the front counter to find something to fasten her waist-long hair into a messy bun. 

"Welcome to Naughty Bits and Charms! How may we help you?" She called from behind the registrar. She secured her bun with a gnawed chopstick and stood. She almost fell backwards to find McGee staring at her with a pale face. 

"Uh, hi, McGee. Interested in some edible lingerie?" 

McGee's jaw tensed as Junko passed behind her with a raised brow. "No. And I doubt girls your age should be either." Blaise motioned for the older girl to take the registrar. She sheepishly stepped out into the backroom with McGee close behind. 

"What are you doing in this place?" McGee blurted the moment Blaise drew the curtains. "Selling those perversions to muggles?! You know they might be Squibs but the Nguyen's know their potions. The Ministry could shut this place down if they knew half the ingredients they used!" 

Blaise felt her cheeks burn. "The Nguyen's are a decent family, McGee. Who cares if they are Squibs? I've seen more talent in Hong's pinky than half the schlimazels that go to my school!" She crossed her arms in front of her. "They've been very accommodating and I-I won't have you say that about them!"    

"I'm sorry. I have nothing against the Nguyen's. Honest." McGee made a long sigh. "Blaise, just come home."

"No," her lip trembled. "We've discussed this already. I don't want to go back to Creer Upon Libby."

McGee rubbed her forehead. "The wake w-wasn't that difficult. All of your friends visited. They asked about you. I know Dumbledore let you go on a bereavement leave. Working in this lingerie shop in the middle of London isn't exactly mourning, is it?"

"We all have our ways of dealing with grief," Blaise said stiffly.

"I know," McGee bit her lip. "And my way of dealing with it is to have you home. Where you belong."

"Look, McGee," she scratched at her nose. "I'm fine where I am. Why do I have to be there? I know it's Cedric and all, but I'm not comfortable living there anymore. So much has happened. So much negative stuff. Everyone in my family is gone from there. What's the point?"

McGee's face grew paler. The girl just remembered something … she had always considered the Diggory's a second family. And when things were rough, they were always her home. 

Blaise wished she bothered not to talk. But judging from the woman's hesitant gaze, McGee herself wasn't ready to admit to the truth. And shouldn't it come from her? Just come out and say she was Blaise's real mum, she had an affair with Zon, and they both had lied to her and Cedric all these years. Van had known. Mama Vanessa who was now strapped in a padded cell. Van, the mum Blaise had tried to please and "fix" for as long as she could remember.

She had to be careful. She had to choose her arguments, her debates. This wasn't the best time to accuse McGee of keeping secrets. And … Blaise knew she couldn't handle it without Cedric there. That's what tore into her the most. He never knew. She never got to say it. He'll never know. 

Everything Blaise knew about herself had stretched out as far as she could take it. Was she McGee's daughter now, or was she still Van's daughter? Was she ever Van's child? Why couldn't Papa just keep it in his damn shorts? Why couldn't Cedric know, blah, blah. But as exasperated as she was with the whole thing, she decided to continue playing dumb. Even if her reserve grew thinner each passing day. 

What IS the point in anything anymore?   

"The point?" McGee whispered. "The point is you don't give up, Blaise! The point is you keep on walking after you've been kicked in the teeth! You stay who you are. You keep everyone you love close to you and then, you move on."

Again her face grew hot. "You don't have to do this. I know my father made you my guardian and all, but after what's happened … it doesn't feel right. I want to be on my own. Or at least live where I choose, with supervision I approve of."

"Blaise, you're not thinking straight. You've got a lot on your plate, I know. But you have to listen to me. I'm practically your mother--"

Blaise's eyes widened. "Don't force me to choose between you and Vanessa! She was there for me. She tried. And even if she's like that now, you can't just step in and take over--" McGee tried to pull her close but Blaise backed away.

"I only meant … I didn't mean. I'm sorry. I wasn't forcing you. It's just you are my responsibility--"

"It's time that I claim that for myself." McGee paused.

"What? I-I'm not complaining."

"Well, I am."

"You're only 14."

"Going to be fifteen very soon."

"You're just a child."

"You know as well as I do, I grew up a long time ago."

"I won't grant it. As your guardian, I won't support it."

Blaise folded her arms again. "I'm not going back with you. Not even if you stun me and shove me into a carriage. I will just find a way out. The Ministry has its hands full to bother spying on my actions. And if anything, I'm just a silly kid to them. You said to keep walking. This's how I want to do it. I'm not shutting anyone out of my life. I'm trying to take control of it."

McGee groaned and sat heavily on a stack of boxes. "This's not supposed to happen. The two of you were supposed to grow old together. Not as a couple, but together. In each other's lives. This's not supposed to happen …"

_If the cards were played right, I wasn't supposed to be born, Mum … Blaise thought bitterly to herself. "Maybe it's wrong. But let me have the freedom to make the mistake."_

"No," McGee said jerkily. "I won't have it. I already lost my son and I won't lose you."

Blaise reached for McGee's hand. It pained her to see the woman try so hard to be her mother, yet keep it concealed. She wondered if she should just tell McGee she knew. But then, it's probably better this way. 

"You won't lose me. I just can't be the one to fill the void he left. I'm not changing myself, McGee. This's who I am. I figure things out on my own. I move on my terms. And even if we're apart, you are always close." She grimaced inwardly, loathing the sentimentality behind those words. But why? Why did she resent herself caring about people?

"You're too stubborn for your own good," McGee sighed. She brushed the hair from Blaise's eyes. "But you're right. You grew up a long time ago. I know you don't need me to hold your hand." The woman's smile trembled. "I-I guess I need the hand-holding. It's tough … being a mum. I invested my whole life into my children's future. When that's stripped away, who am I supposed to be?"

"You're Gwenyth Diggory. You're the rock in your family. And … in my eyes, you'll always be my McGee."

McGee finally smiled. A real smile that made her grey eyes crinkle, the same way Cedric's did. The same way Blaise's eyes did.

"Blaise, you will be a woman soon. I-I'm so excited for your future."

Blaise didn't know what that meant. Whether it meant, McGee was granting her permission to live on her own or was she just happy she stood up to her. She temporarily let her guard down when McGee pulled her in for a warm hug. She honestly didn't remember the last time Vanessa or Zon, or even Oma embraced her like this. The gesture was so loving and trusting that she almost pushed McGee away from the swell of emotion she felt. The tears were beginning to brim at her eyes and the last thing she wanted was to cry like a baby. Especially when she's trying to prove she's ready for adulthood.

"Err, thanks," she said gruffly, patting McGee gingerly on the back. The tension lifted from her lungs when they released each other.

McGee wiped away a tear from her own cheek. "Look at me blubbering," she snorted. She gazed misty-eyed at the young girl, who was already equal to her height. "I guess this's good-bye then. I have to go back to the village … We're, Amos and I, are visiting Cedric's grave this weekend. You're welcome to come with us. Maybe it'd be easier for you if we were there for moral support."

Blaise felt the heat rush to her face again. But it wasn't out of embarrassment. She couldn't tell what her emotions were. "Thank you for offering. But … I don't think that would help. I don't … I'm not … I can't do it. I'm sorry." McGee shook her head soberly.

"Don't apologise, child. Baby girl, you're finding your own path." She held Blaise at arm's length almost hesitantly. The she said the words that Blaise needed and dreaded the same time.

"I give you my blessing. You will have your independence."

Blaise watched McGee leave the boutique and walk down the streets to the next row of stores where the Leaky Cauldron lay sandwiched inside. She watched until she could no longer pick the witch's cloak from the crowd. A part of her wanted to run after the woman. Ask her to hold her a bit longer. But as quick as it came, the urge immediately evaporated. She had grown dependent on Cedric's comforting. He's gone now. She shouldn't seek it from anyone else. 

"Was that your mum?" Junko asked across the shop.

"No. That was Cedric's mum."

"Oh, sorry, mate," Junko clucked her tongue. "Good thing I didn't say anything. I was gonna ask you to offer her our new fragrance."

She managed a smile while Junko resumed labeling the jars on the counter. Blaise gratefully indulged in Junko's ignorance. Hong's older sister found Cedric's death sobering, but she barely knew him, so the news wasn't paralyzing or depressing. Yeah, it was for the best Blaise didn't let McGee know she knew the truth. Maybe … it'll hurt a little less when he's just a neighbor and not a childhood mate. Maybe it's more endurable when he's the best friend and not her brother. Maybe McGee will see it that way, too. Hopefully.

The doors to the shop swung open again and Hong strolled in juggling a letter and a small vial in her hands.

"Special delivery. Just nabbed it from Zephyr. Well, your owl gave it up after I bribed him with a crumpet." She tossed the parchment to Blaise. Hong waved her wrist in Blaise's face, making her nose wrinkle. "New scent. I think you'll like it. Inspired by your Villa back on the island."

Blaise tore the envelope open as she sniffed Hong's wrist cross-eyed. "Hey, not bad. It reminds me of the ocean but this time no fishiness."

"Yeah, I goofed on the first one," Hong shrugged. "But really you like it?"

"Yeah," Blaise smiled. She pulled out the letter inside. There were no words written. Only a feather was folded in the parchment. Blaise frowned. 

"Well, since you like it. And since it was inspired by you, you can name it."

Blaise picked the feather with her thumb and index finger. This was odd, she never had a delivery like this before, but the feather looked like it belonged to a phoenix.

"Hello?!" Hong snapped. 

"Oh! Umm, call it Home, I guess."

"Home? How lame."

"Well, it's inspired by me."

"In that case, lame it is." Hong snickered heading to the backroom. "Are you going to stare at that thing all day? Shake a leg, Blazy-pants. We like you and all, but you are a working guest."

Once Hong closed the door behind her, the feather sizzled in Blaise's hold. Her eyes widened as a quiet voice said in her head, "Your presence is requested at six in the evening tomorrow night. Hope you are well, Blaise. You're going home soon."

The feather then shriveled into dust.  

Next morning before the sun rose, Blaise left Hong's house. Rusty had the carriage waiting for her as she stuffed the vial of perfume Hong gave her into her robes. She stuck a small note on her friend's vanity and pulled the covers over the sleeping girl's head. Not for sappy good-byes, both girls knew how much the other's presence benefited them. 

When proposed the option to live in Grimmauld Place, Blaise had flat out declined. She had met Mr. Black, found him gruffly charming and tragic all at once. But she couldn't forget that this ordeal had ruined his life as well. He reminded her of a slightly younger and darker version of her father. She would rather stay in Durmstang, but Zon said Karkaroff's disappearance left the school in disarray. Even he wasn't safe. Her other options were Creer Upon Libby, which she avoided for obvious reasons. Villa Monteverde was her sanctity. But until Oma and Rusty reworked the security parameters there, the castle was off-limits. So when Oma offered Blaise to stay at any one of her friend's homes, Blaise knew the only place she could go to with no hassles about Cedric or school in general was Hong's home. 

She took one last look at the Nguyen's stacked bungalow. In the back of her mind, she knew she might never come back to this place. With Voldemort back, she might never see Hong again. And even though both girls never sat down and discussed what happened, Hong knew something bad had occurred. The whole family knew the wizard community would be in jeopardy soon. Blaise closed her eyes, as the perfume's dewy scent rose from her robes. Hong concocted this, perhaps knowing she won't see Blaise again for a while. 

"Thank you, friend," Blaise whispered, hitching her wand into her holster and securing her pouch of beads onto her belt.

This's the first and last time she ever puts the Nguyen family in Harm's way.

Sparks a Flame

The feather had carried Dumbledore's voice. But before heading to the Order, she had to make a quick stop. Well, a _preferably quick stop, because she had promised herself to avoid the place. But Dumbledore and Oma both insisted. She resented that they double-teamed her. Even if she didn't want to visit Vanessa in the sanitarium, she'd do it. It's not like she'd throw a tantrum. She wouldn't have gotten away with it anyway._

"Miss Zabini," the nurse greeted as Blaise stood from her chair. "It's been a while since we last saw you. Vanessa has been a handful but we're tending to her every needs. Sometimes, we're just a bit confused as to what they are," the nurse chatted away while they walked down the grey hall. The scent of ammonia flared Blaise's nostrils. Each click of her heel sounded off sharply against the linoleum floor. Each step made the walls look taller. 

She didn't know what to expect as they stood before Vanessa's door. "We had to sedate her," the nurse said almost apologetically. "She's been high strung the past few months. But I'm sure they're wearing off a little. You can probably talk to her. If you need us, just ring the bell."

Blaise nodded. She sighed deeply before she twisted the knob. Then she peeked inside.

The small padded room had a slim cot and little else for furnishings. Blaise noted the undisturbed sheets. She spotted Vanessa huddled in the far corner behind the bed, right under the tiny barred window. Her mum's back was to her. The gown she wore exposed her back and there Blaise saw the source of Van's new anxiety.

Maybe the Muggle staff in this sanitarium didn't see the magical Mark of the Death-Eaters. But Blaise, herself, had never seen it. She had relied on Oma's descriptions and her parents' cryptic discussions about it. But there it was now. Burning and glowing on her petite mum's back. As if she had been held down and branded against her will. Blaise swallowed the lump in her throat. For all she knew, Van probably was. 

The past months suddenly surged back into Blaise's mind. She heard her shuddering breaths as she ran down to the field. Her wand aimed at the impostor's heart, Potter emerging from the maze with her lifeless brother. And all that fear, pain, and anger she had tried to push back surfaced again. Everything stemmed from this seemingly insignificant tattoo. But just like every tragedy she knew of herself, of a friend, everything stemmed from one man. One evil.

Vanessa stirred from her corner as Blaise sat on the foot of the bed.

"Come to stick another needle up my arm?" Van hissed, scrunching herself closer to the corner. Blaise cleared her throat.

"No … I-I'm a visitor. I'm your … I'm your visitor," she said deciding Vanessa might still not recognise her. The woman twisted around suddenly and gasped at the young girl on her bed.

"B-Blaise?" She barely whispered. She reached a trembling hand toward the girl. "Y-you came back to me."

Blaise flinched as Van's hand caressed her cheek. Guilt quickly replaced whatever reservations she had had. How long was Mama in this frame of mind? If she remembered Blaise, she remembered she had a family. A family that rarely visited her.

"Mama? How are you?" Van responded by pulling Blaise into a fierce hug. She allowed the woman to hold her. She closed her eyes, keeping her tears at bay. "I'm s-sorry. So much has happened."

"Shh, it's okay. I know, sweetie." Vanessa's voice sounded strong despite her weak grip on Blaise. "The Dark Lord is back. We've felt it. I've felt it." She held Blaise at arm's length and did the eyes, nose, throat check. Something Blaise used to squirm away from, but she welcomed it now. "Let me get a good look at you. You look just like Zonarius … and Gwenyth." Blaise's eyes widened. Of the three adults involved in the triangle, Van was the last one she expected to talk.

"You know the truth now, don't you?"

"Yeah," Blaise whispered. A tear fell down her cheek to her chagrin. "That doesn't mean you're not my Mama anymore." More tears fell. "I j-just couldn't come here. You didn't know me." Vanessa kissed her on the forehead.

"I know. And believe me when I say I will always remember you. Just know this, hear my words, child. I am not myself. I can't stop what's happening to me …" She suddenly stiffened and her gaze skewed. Blaise cupped Van's face in her hands.

"What's happening, Mama? No … don't leave me yet. You can do this. Fight it. Whatever it is, fight it, Mama!" Van shuddered and locked her gaze with Blaise's again.

"It's not safe here, baby girl," she whispered hurriedly wiping the tears from Blaise's face. "You must tell them to get me away from here. The muggles aren't trustworthy. Dumbledore will know where to put me. Trust him." She shivered as if resisting something that pulled from inside her. "Don't come to me anymore."

"What?"

"Don't come to me anymore, child. Don't listen to me. I'm not myself." Her fingers began to dig into Blaise's arm. She winced but did not push Van away. "You're my baby. I'm sorry this's happening. I'm sorry for everything."

"Don't be, Mama. Don't think like this."

Vanessa suddenly jerked her head and Blaise backed away. Tripping over her robes and landing on the floor. Vanessa whimpered pulling at her hair.

"_Ne_ plus! Ne plus pas_," she begged to an invisible force. Blaise scrambled to her feet and held out her wand._

"What is it? What's happening?!" She cried trying to pull Van's hand from her face.

"You won't have it!" Van suddenly screamed punching the wall. "I won't give it!" She jerked, chest heaving heavily, as if her very heart was yanked. Blaise stood back, unable to tell if this was one of Van's tantrums or something was really attacking her. Then the mark on Van's back flickered. Blaise made a decision.

She pulled out a bead. Envisioning a protective shield around Van, she flung the bead and snapped her fingers. The shield surrounded the woman. And then Blaise suddenly gasped as she felt whatever she deflected pounce on her.

_What do you know, mon petit? A familiar voice growled in her head. Blaise froze in shock as several faces flashed in her mind. Faces she had no attachment to, they were faces that belonged to several people in the Order. Sirius, Sturgis Podmore, Moody, Blaise reeled back realizing what was happening. The faces were being extracted from her. She wrenched herself from the force. A voice cackled. The voice that long haunted her nightmares._

A poisonous rage swept over Blaise as she clenched her fists. The room began to smolder. The cackle withered as the intruder seemingly noticed it wasn't Van's mind he had pried. It tried to pounce on Blaise again. 

"Oh no, you don't!" She snarled. And suddenly winds picked up from her cape and swirled around her. They intensified blocking the intruder's spell. It felt like a tug of war of sorts. Only Blaise was pushing against the force as it tried to break her defense. The pressure pushed Blaise onto one knee until she heard Vanessa scream again. 

"Leave her alone! It's me you want!" Mama cried. The pressure lifted slightly, veered onto Van, and slammed the woman into the wall. 

"Oh hell no," Blaise hissed. 

She began to growl. The hot winds whipped around her, around the room. The angry gales reverberated through the whole building, making the unsuspecting muggles brace themselves. The spell felt like a vacuum against her mind, trying to drag her thoughts into the void. 

"So you try to fight again?" The voice taunted. 

Blaise had enough. With a spark from her eyes, the winds flared into a blinding inferno just as the spell pounced in her again. Instinctively, Blaise shot the flames into the void. The spell broke amongst the intruder's agonizing screams … probably miles away but she still heard him. As if he still stood over her. Taunting her, mocking her. 

"_Ne_ plus pas_," Vanessa mumbled trembling in the corner again. Blaise reached for her. _

"Mama?" She pulled Van into her arms. Van's eyes dilated, her lips chapped.

"Can't have … Not bend … _Merde … __aucun__ ne viendra pas ensuite … __ne_ plus._ No more, _frere___. I won't give. N-none will come -- No, I won't do it. I won't."_

"It's okay," Blaise lied rocking Van in her arms. "I'll make Padre get you out of here. It isn't safe here anymore." She bit her lip, barely noting that her nose began to bleed.

There's no place safe, is there? 

*********** 

The Blaze of Blaise Zabini, Nengski 2004. 


	12. Dear Oma

Chapter Eleven: Dear Oma

Truth and Consequences

"You're early," Remus Lupin replied once Blaise stepped into the foyer of Grimmauld Place. She nodded stiffly, hoping her eyes didn't betray the scare she had in Van's padded cell.

"Is my grandmother here yet?" Blaise peered into the kitchen, noting Sirius brooding over a flask of amber liquid. Moody leaned on his chair, that crazy eye rounded on Blaise. They acknowledged each other tiredly. Blaise never testified for the old Auror. Fudge took it upon himself to be prosecution, judge, and jury in the investigation. The Minister managed to point the guilty finger at Moody's impostor without providing evidence of Voldemort's return. That helped the Dark Lord's cause more than it did Fudge's but Blaise expected the worthless, power-hungry git would do as much. 

Sirius gazed up from his drink.

"I suppose you're staying here too? Molly Weasley's coming with her children. It'll be one big party." Blaise grimaced.

"I see you've kept your sense of humour after all. I'm not staying. No offense."

"None taken." Sirius waved his hand towards the archway behind him. "Your grandmother's with Dumbledore. Just go straight and you'll see the doorway." Blaise followed his gesture across the kitchen. Remus quickly cleared his throat.

"Blaise, Rhonda didn't leave us any instructions for your arrival. Perhaps you should wait here with us. They might be discussing something …"

She smirked suddenly. "That's always the best time to barge in." 

"I always liked that kid," she heard Moody grumble as she ducked into the damp, dim hallway.

After a few feet, she noticed light seeping through a great, mahogany door. Muffled voices boomed inside the room. After rubbing a clean spot on the wood, she listened quietly as the conversation bled through the withered door. 

"I can't believe you hid this from me, Rhonda!" A book slammed on a desk.

"No one was supposed to know it, Albus. I promised Zon I wouldn't tell a soul. I promised Gwenyth. No one was supposed to know!"

"But you cannot deny the implications of this. If I hadn't found out the truth the way I did …"

"Albus, I know for a fact that you wouldn't be affected. I had to do what I did at the time. Zon told me the truth at the last minute! There was no time to ask questions."

"Yes, but he came to you not knowing the whole story, did he now? And … what of her? Oh my … but how could we tell her such a thing? Not when the boy is … and she's -- What? Does she know?" 

"Y-yes. I had to tell her. She discovered Vanessa was barren."

The response came out garbled. 

"Albus, I did it for her safety. For all their safety."

"Rhonda, I have nothing but love for you. But … what you have done is far from safe. This has serious consequences--"

"I know! Stop being my Professor for once! We have long crossed those lines."

A laboring pause swept the room. Only the rigid tap-tap of someone's footsteps echoed through. Finally, the tapping stopped and capes rustled into stillness.

"You must remove it."

A shuddering sigh. "No. I won't."

"How can you protect her this way? When you're endangering others?!"

"Don't you dare lecture me about endangering others!" A chair fell over. "What are we arguing about?! Stop feigning concern for my family, Albus. We all know your priority has always been that boy and that blasted prophecy!"

"Rhonda, I only am fulfilling my obligation--"

"Yes! But no one was supposed to die!"

"No one saw that coming."

"You saw it! You read it in the stars. That night Voldemort would rise. You were warned and still my grandson is dead. I told you once before, Albus. Nothing is written in stone. Not even your precious predictions. A true Seer has the ability to change the future from what is Seen. If you blindly follow every prophecy uttered … you're a bloody fool. They were Seen for you to change things. Not stand aside and let them happen!"

"I am not destined to alter this future, Rhonda. We have meddled in the past, but not now. What will happen, will happen. The only thing we can do is prepare …" 

"Rubbish! You can stop this now, Albus. You can end this. Seek him before he gets any stronger. He fears you. Sod the prophecies, and let the children have their youth."

"Don't you think I've tried this?"

"You call this spy game an effort?! Do you even remember where the last attempts got us? Well, _I've_ tried shielding my family from the truth, and it only proved worse. And you ask me to stop?" A sarcastic laugh echoed sharply.

"Rhonda, your _protection_ could very well lead to her downfall. It's a bloody time bomb, woman. I understand your concern. But his mind focuses elsewhere."

A fist slammed against a wall. "Dammit, Albus! It stays! It stays, you hear?! This is my bloodline. It bloody stays."

Backing away from the door, Blaise knew she had heard too much as she paced quietly in the hall. The facts came in drones, overwhelming Blaise. She knew plenty. But plenty of who's story? Hers? Oma's? Or Harry Potter's? _I need to write this all down or my head will explode_, she sighed tiredly to herself. She always sucked in taking notes.

"Find Rhonda yet?"

Startled, Blaise slipped and landed on her back with a loud thud. Lupin pulled her clumsily to her feet. She grimaced up at the man sheepishly.

"What are you doing?" 

Shuffling came from the room again. The door opened and Padre stood there with a stern look on his face. It immediately softened when he saw Blaise before him. 

"She was a bit early," Remus said guiding Blaise inside the room. He nodded and closed the door leaving her alone with her two crotchety elders.

Padre sat behind a bulky desk as Oma stared out the grimy window. Both acted as if they weren't arguing seconds before. _Must be for my sake_, Blaise mused, _Mama and Papa did that too_. Her jaw tensed thinking of Vanessa in her 'sane' years. She watched as Dumbledore pulled out a scroll of parchment and unrolled before him. He sighed deeply and beckoned her to take a seat.

"I have received this document late last night, Blaise," he began glancing at her over his spectacles. "Are you aware that Gwenyth Diggory has granted you full emancipation?"

"Yes, I asked for it," Blaise replied. Oma cursed under her breath as Padre folded his hands over the paper.

"Blaise, do you realise the ramifications that come with emancipation?"

Oma flipped her cape over her shoulders. "What I want to know is what the bloody hell Gwenyth was thinking granting a juvenile such privileges!" Padre raised his hand, bracing Oma's voice.

"Well, Blaise?"

"Umm," his gaze unsettled her. Not angry or disapproving, just quietly inquisitive. She preferred Oma's glare to this though. 

Blaise shrugged with great effort. "I knew it would grant me the right to live on my own. I'm aware I'm still underage, but I am allowed to choose my guardians. And I'm aware of the initial agreement my father signed when he granted Gwenyth full guardianship. I know I'm supposed to continue my studies in Hogwarts. And that's it, I think." She trailed off.

Padre pursed his lips together. "It also freezes your family's accounts. No one in your family can touch the Zabini fortune without your prior knowledge and consent. And since you're underage, all activities must be disclosed to the Head Banker at Gringotts, who in turn must file this report to the Ministry." He rubbed his forehead with a bitter smile. "It's Fudge's way of preventing fraud. Or so he insisted. It's another way to keep track on your family's activities."

Blaise frowned. "I … don't understand," she said quietly.

"Of course, you don't!" Oma snapped. "You're just a child!" Padre stood from his chair.

"Rhonda, if you can't keep your voice down, I will have to ask you to leave this room."

Oma stormed out, biting her lip until her chin turned blue. Blaise stared at her hands, letting the information sink in.

She sighed. "So neither Oma nor my father can lift a finger without asking me for an allowance of sorts? And I have to list where every knut and sickle has gone … This could either be very interesting or very traumatizing. No wonder Oma's spitting tacks. She won't be able to hide anything from me now."

Of course, she felt bad. But she also felt defiant about it. Now they'll know how it feels to have something but can't claim it without some bogus permission. 

Padre leaned forward clasping his hands over the scroll. Blaise had a gnawing feeling like she forgot something but had no clue what it was.

"Rhonda and Zon can manage. They have always acted independently from your inheritance. It's just … we have a situation with Vanessa."

Blaise gasped and cupped her face in her hands. "Bloody hell! The Ministry will find where she is."

"Exactly," Padre sighed. "I'm sure they won't disturb her knowing the condition she is in. But having her location disclosed in their files is not a reassuring thought. Not when Voldemort has many spies within those walls. Even if Vanessa has long been inactive for the Order, I worry the Dark Lord will still try to find some use for her."

Blaise bit her lip. "I visited her like you said. She isn't safe there regardless. Someone tried to siphon her thoughts."

If this information was new to him, Padre didn't show any signs of it. He began pacing across the room again. "I know only of one Death-Eater who can affect your mum like that. He should be rotting in Azkaban. So Voldemort may have made contact with the Dementors this early on."

Blaise nodded avoiding his gaze. She felt Padre turn to her again.

"I will arrange for her transfer to a secure location. One of our newer members has suggested a monastery located south of Romania. We have a friar there that has a long allegiance with the Order."

"That's good." _Romania__'s far_, she glumly thought. A bit of her pride slipped to the floor. She made the mess, yet Padre was cleaning up after her. She felt grateful, of course. But she'd rather have figured things out on her own. Who's to say she couldn't think up a solution herself?

"Gwenyth granted you this because she loves you and hoped this would make you happy. She's making up for lost time, Blaise. But you don't have to go through with this." 

"Well, I don't know if I'll be happy, but this is what I want." 

Padre nodded with a slight sigh. "Well, Blaise, you'll be pleased to know Rhonda and Rusty have re-established the Villa's security. It's better than before. I take it this's where you want to stay?"

"Yes. With Rusty and the house elves as caretakers."

"You still need adult supervision. Have you decided?"

Blaise bit her lip. "If it won't be too much trouble … I figured since you're the Headmaster of Hogwarts, I'll just report to you."

Padre eyed her carefully. "I can't say I've never had an arrangement like this before. I suppose you think I'll be too busy with the Order and school to supervise you as a regular guardian should?"

"More or less." Blaise stared at her hands. 

"You shouldn't deny those who want to be in your life, Blaise."

"I'm not." She blew her bangs from her eyes. "I just don't like being smothered."

A slight pull emanated from his gaze. Just a slight probe as if to encourage her to tell more. But Blaise tightened her lips. The pull ceased and Dumbledore's gaze softened into casual surprise. 

"Before you go back to the Villa, is there anything else you wish to tell me?"

She thought about the Death-Eater trying to siphon her thoughts, the wall of fire that erupted around her, Vanessa's intelligible mutterings. The fact that every night now, she dreamt of someone dying in her arms. Each time a different person, each time a different violent death. 

Suddenly, Oma's words echoed in her head _… They were Seen for you to change things. Not stand aside and let them happen …_

"No. I'm done."

Mission Very Impossible

Blaise spent the rest of her summer vacation, plowing her nose through the books in Oma's library. This year was O.W.L.'s year. She figured studying for the tests would distract her. Unfortunately, she had already mastered most of the lessons, so she began to hound Rusty whenever he popped into the castle. The warrior elf did not mind giving Blaise extended lessons. The whole learning process kept her gratefully distracted. 

Her birthday came, the first birthday without Cedric. Blaise noted soberly that the more years she lived through, the more birthdays she'd have to endure without him. Zephyr delivered items from her friends and the usual greetings from McGee. Papa sent her a cleverly disguised gift: a dead rat. It transfigured into a silver chain with a locket containing Blaise and Cedric's baby pictures. 

So on her 15th birthday, with the necklace clenched in hand, Blaise locked herself up in her tower. And thoroughly trashed the place.

Perhaps it was the gift, the sting of his absence, or it was just time for her to give into it. But no matter how hard a chair hurled itself across the room, no tears fell. She was beyond petty weeping now.

Different people sprung to her mind, Cedric, Vanessa, McGee. She thought of the all the secrets and lies she had conceal. And she had no bloody outlet! Nothing to hit, punch, or scratch but a sack of potatoes that didn't bleed. She resented herself. What good was she being a Zabini? What good was she as a witch? 

Grief sure had a perverted way of twisting her sadness. She had started out mourning for Cedric and now she mourned for herself. Did misery always do that? Or was she just a selfish prat feeling sorry for herself, because her hero was gone? Blaise hadn't felt this low since her 3rd year, when the Dementors came. 

And that's another bloody thing she didn't want to recall … The fact that the dementors made her relive her most miserable moments and one of them was a memory she thought she never had.

The memory of a young boy in a park. Face smudged with grime, broken glasses, and a broken watch. Scar on his forehead. The brightest green eyes she had ever seen. She held his hand. She watched him leave. She remembered begging Van to let her see him again. 

"WHY? Why are you in my life?!" She roared as another vase smashed into the wall. The shattered pieces regrouped and scampered under the bed. With a flash in her eyes, the bed turned over. Blaise stared at her hands. Her hand still clenched the locket as more objects crashed against the walls. She crumpled to her knees. 

She wished Mama's memory charm never broke. Damn dementors. Blaise would've been content to know nothing about her early childhood connections to Harry Potter. What good were they to her now? He has probably never noticed her in his classes. He probably thinks all Slytherin were scumbags. He'd never give her the time of day.

Blaise snorted aloud. There it was. That ugly thing called Shallowness. Of course, this all had to focus back on her. Never mind her brother's death or the fact her family's lives are in danger. Harry Potter would never notice her, now _that's_ the real devastation. 

"Blimey, I'm so pathetic!" She snarled. She couldn't even say if she actually _liked_ the boy. But the charm had been broken and so it's there. Sitting in her head like a drunken troll. Farting on her brain just to annoy the piss out of her. She thought of her sorry existence, huddled in a tower where no friends can visit, no family in sight.

Blaise shook her head, almost twisting it out of socket. "I don't need them," she whispered to herself. "Things won't change. I'll be … I'll be okay. I'm a stone. I'm a stone." She closed her eyes, rocking back and forth on her knees. Stones had no emotion. Stones did not break easily. Stones were hard.

"Wake up, Blaise."

She found Oma standing over her with an actual grin on her face. 

"What are you doing here? Do you want Fudge to raid this place again?!" She barked toppling off her tattered bed as she scrambled after Oma's departing figure.

"Good morning to you too, sweetie. I see you've been redecorating," Oma drawled, jogging down the stairs. Blaise sputtered but Oma quickly held up her hand. "Don't worry about Fudge. The old coot is probably laying an egg in his office. I hope it's a sizzling, spiny dragon's egg too."

"What happened?" Blaise gasped still blinking at the vision Oma made in the kitchen. 

"Your Padre came through for us," Oma beamed. "He convinced the Wizengamot to absolve me and your father." Blaise opted for a chair, suddenly weak in the knees.

"Are you serious?"

"No, I'm Rhonda." Oma winked. "Of course, there were some in the court who only agreed to absolve us by blaming Sirius' escape on Crouch Jr. The Ministry has gone on a tangent now, claiming Sirius was the mastermind behind the Triwizard Cup tragedy and Crouch Jr. was merely following orders." Oma suddenly frowned. 

"Dumbledore then tried to present a case proving Sirius' innocence. It was more difficult convincing the court to believe that. During this hearing, Fudge caught whiff of Padre's _meddling_, he called it. He promptly bullied the Wizengamot to demote him."

"He can't do that!" Blaise snarled.

"Well, Fudge insists he can by some decree that Umbridge, the bulldog, concocted. She's in the Wizengamot, too, unfortunately. Never saw that coming. Dumb as a mute that one. But not all is lost, sweetie. Your father and I can walk free now …"

"Will you be staying here then? And Papa too?"

Oma's smiled stuck awkwardly on her face. "Well, since the Order has been activated again … we're doing our best to recruit new people and monitor Voldemort's supporters here and abroad--"

"In other words: NO," Blaise sighed. Oma's expression softened.

"Durmstang needs leadership, sweetie. A strong one. Most of the students and their families have been alerted of Voldemort's comeback, despite Fudge's efforts to convince the Bulgarian Minister otherwise. Your father has played a major role in informing that community. He sends you his regards though. Always."

Blaise nodded, her shoulders drooped once again. "So how long will you be here?"

"Indefinitely," Oma smiled. "Unless, you're going to kick your grandmother out of her own house." 

"Can't say I'm not tempted," Blaise replied. But she smiled as Oma pecked her on the forehead and ruffled her hair. "I … I don't mind you staying here. Though the Order might need you often."

Oma snorted. "I doubt it. Albus has it _all_ figured out." Her tone higher than usual. Blaise followed Oma into her study room. Oma pulled out several books from the shelves and stacked them on the desk. 

"What happened?"

"Nothing. And nothing will happen, the way I see it," Oma sighed. She began to pace the room. "I have been telling him for the longest time that he must _talk_ to the _boy_. He should have, before Voldemort came back. But no, he said. He's _too young_, he said. Too young, my arse. Kids these days can take it."

"Oma, what are you talking about?"

Oma sighed and opened one book. She turned to a specific page and pointed it to Blaise. "Remember what I told you about the Order of Phoenix? How it was based on an ancient organization?"

"Yes," Blaise said skimming the pages. She noted their appearance. They weren't made of paper but of gauzy thick fabric. The words were either hand-painted, sewn, or both. It looked centuries old. But the magic brooding within the pages kept the book mysteriously intact. She doubted the library of Hogwarts had a copy of this one, even in the Restricted Section. On the page were sketches of animals, all arranged in a tapestry that looked vaguely familiar. Oma tucked the book under her armpit and paced the room. Blaise felt an odd buzz all over her skin.

"Blaise, remember when I said that every generation has a Dark Lord? And every Dark Lord has a counterpart. A hero that would equal the dark power. It's believed that the Order had been created by the very first of those wizards. And passed on to the next Vanquisher and the next. The identity of that person is in a prophecy. And I'm sure that prophecy will claim that Harry Potter is the next wizard."

Blaise suddenly burst into laughter. "Well, considering his history with Voldemort, how can that be a secret?" She remembered the little red scar across his forehead and pulled nervously at her collar. 

Oma nodded. "Yes, you see it right away. But not everyone is quick on the uptake, including Potter himself. With Voldemort back, it will be virtually impossible for Albus to communicate with Potter without risk. I would gladly tell the boy what I know, but that might just strengthen the connection."

Blaise's eyes glazed over. Oma's speaking in tongues again. _Blah-blah__, Albus, blah-blah, Voldemort, connection, Harry Potter, blah-blah._ If this brought them closer to avenging Cedric and helping her family, maybe she'd pay more attention. Her mind wandered back to the mysterious image she saw in the old book. Maybe it wasn't a tapestry. Or maybe it was some kind of art book. She really wanted to look at it again. 

"Have you been listening to me?" Blaise's head snapped back.

"Y-yes, Potter's the chosen one. He has to vanquish Voldemort."

"Shh! Not so loud!" Oma looked over her shoulder. "Take this with you to Hogwarts." 

Blaise's excitement went from a peaky crescendo to a dull flat when Oma handed her a spiffy red leather-bound book. It wasn't the ancient gauze-paged one.

"What is this for?"

"It's a journal. Well, sort of. Anytime you wish to tell me something, simply write down _Dear Oma_ and we'll have direct conversation. But I also think you should try writing a few things to yourself as well. It could help." Blaise balked silently at the idea. 

"Don't roll your eyes like that, Blaise Ophelia. Albus has told me that your new Defense Instructor is sadly Dolores Umbridge. Yes, the same swine-faced bureaucrat in the Wizengamot. She'll no doubt try to tap her wand into all sources of communication at Hogwarts. This journal is the best and simplest way to pass information to each other. Only you can see and read the ink in the journal. I charmed it with the Zabini blood."

"Yeah, that is charming." She noticed Oma wring her hands together. Blaise raised a brow. "Out with it, grandma. You're looking peaky."

Oma leaned in, her violet eyes alit. A look Blaise recognised whenever her grandma was about to go against better judgment. Its effect was a drug for her. 

"You said you wanted to do something … this is your chance."

Payback is a Bitch

"What did I do to deserve this? Just strike me down now God." 

Blaise massaged her temples imagining with envy her other friends enjoying themselves at Three Broomsticks. In the meantime, she's stuck here with Mr. Goodbar in the hellish reincarnation of Umbridge Haven. 

"Lovely place, isn't it?" Roger Davies said mistily. "It's appropriate for Valentine's."

Mustard, paisley-printed wallpaper lined the walls which were moist from the vapors emitting from the potpourri jars. They both ducked their heads as a portly cherub zipped past them to strum an off-key harp over a couple. In fact, nothing but snogging couples littered the parlour. 

Blaise blew pink confetti off the bridge of her nose. 

"Whoever gave you that idea ought to be flogged."

"You're so cute," he tittered nervously. He pulled at his collar as Blaise tapped her fingers on the tiny table. "Umm, how 'bout we order some tea? It's relaxing and … yeah, I'll do that."

Blaise stared longingly out the window while Roger waved his hand towards Madame Puddifoot. He ordered their tea in a loud voice. As if boasting to the whole room that he ordered something for her. She almost could see the humour in the whole situation. Almost.

She had torn several tissues and had formed a small pile on the windowsill when their tea finally came. So far, her dates on Valentine's never came out the way she envisioned them. She always saw herself engaged in lively banter, among friends, and drinking butterbeer. With a bloke she truly found interesting. Her reasons for dating never fit the bill. She shouldn't have a reason at all, except she liked the boy. 

Roger stole her hand just as she reached for her drink. She let her palm rest in his like a dead fish. It was wrong to lead the bugger on this date. But she wanted to prove herself to Chang. The girl's words on the train and her behaviour all through the term annoyed the piss out of Blaise. 

The wind chimes tinkled on the door and, to Blaise's dismay, Cho strode in dragging Harry Potter. Her stomach twisted into knots as Madame Puddifoot sat the two right next to their table. For a split second, Potter locked eyes with Blaise. She suddenly stared at her and Roger's entwined fingers with mock endearment.

"Two coffees please," Cho said lifting her chin up defiantly at Blaise. Just like Roger, Cho's voice carried over the room, showing she ordered for the both of them. Like ordering coffee for Harry Potter made her Miss Big.

"Give me a bloody break." 

"Say something, love?" Roger cooed. "I ordered us the chamomile. Try it."

She caught Cho giving her the evil eye as Potter began rearranging the spoons and napkins in front of him. She stared at a small crack on the wall slightly above Roger's head. "Anything you say, dear," she said sweetly, hating herself, but what the hell. 

Cho threw another sneer her way as Roger mumbled quickly over Blaise's head.

"Really? How 'bout a kiss then? To celebrate our first date?"

Blaise laughed inwardly. She had just given Cho the two-finger salute. Roger tugged on her hand. "Uh-huh, that's nice." _Brag as much as you like, Davies_, she sighed to herself. 

Suddenly, Roger's lips smothered themselves on hers. Blaise was too shocked to react. If it weren't for the look of contempt on Cho's face, she'd beat him unconscious. But she closed her eyes instead. Trying desperately to feign teen bliss … 

_"How can you tell when you're in love?"_

_She rolled her eyes as Cedric ruffled her hair. They were walking away from the Quidditch field. There was no Quidditch because of the tournament, but it didn't stop him from flying around the pit. Blaise tagged along. He tried to pass more flying tips to her. She tried again to learn._

_"I don't know. But I'm sure we'll know it when it hits us." She shrugged._

_"But what do you think it'll feel like?" She snickered at the goofy look on his face._

_"Frankly, I don't think it's any different than how people feel about … family and friends."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Well … when people truly care about each other, they'd do anything for them. Even if it means dying for them. Maybe if you're willing to die for that person, maybe that's when you can say you love them."_

_Cedric paused and pulled Blaise's hand. She stared up at him with a raised brow._

_"Then I'm not there yet." He looked worried, almost heart-broken._

_"That's just a theory, Ced." She stammered. _

_"I dunno. It's confusing, huh?"_

_"Yeah, but one day … you'll be there." _

_Cedric smirked. "So will you, Blaise. So will you."_

Well, today wasn't the day anything like that would happen. Her fist shook as she kept her eyes closed. Roger smelled strongly of his infamous cologne. And his lips felt mushy and too wet. Like a slug just spread itself over her mouth. He finally broke away with a triumphant grin. Blaise forced a smile. He leaned forward again, but Blaise blocked his face by lifting the teacup to her face. Then she doused her lips in the piping hot liquid. 

Roger proceeded to snog the knuckles on her free hand. If he didn't quit soon, her boot will soon be in his mouth. 

"So, Roger," she began. "Tell me about … yourself."

Blaise winced inwardly as he nattered on, filling the space with his flippy voice. She glanced at her watch. She figured this date lasted long enough. The small satisfaction she felt from annoying Cho had been cancelled out by that kiss.

"You're meeting Hermione Granger? Today?" 

Blaise arched her brow, noting the icy expression that Cho usually reserved for her was now focused on Potter. _Why?__ Can't a bloke have friends, Cho?!_ She snapped inwardly. Talk about insecure. Wasn't this the same Cho that threw herself on the boy during one of those DA meetings Susan attended?

Roger unstuck his lips from her hand. He turned to the couple beside them. "Oh, don't be jealous of them, love. I only have eyes for you."

Blaise turned her head as he lunged for her again, leaving Roger to snog her cheek. She pushed him away soon after she noticed Potter watching them. Great, just what she needed. _Now he probably thinks I'm a trollop._ By all rights, she behaved close enough. 

She watched Potter from the corner of her eye. There was something rather cute about how uncomfortable he looked sitting across from Cho. He didn't look so aloof from this perspective. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. And when he reached for Cho's hand only to clutch the sugar bowl, Blaise snorted loudly into her drink.

"Yeah! She thought it was funny too," Roger drawled, assuming Blaise was still hanging on to every word he said. She rested her chin on her hand, keeping her tea propped in front of her face. 

"I thought _you'd_ understand! I _need_ to talk about it!"

Blaise snapped her head back to Cho and Potter. She knew exactly what Cho _needed_ to talk about, regardless if it puts off the rest of the world. Blaise tried to lock eyes with Cho, send her a warning. The girl can harass Blaise about Cedric, but when she imposes the topic on someone who endured the trauma of watching Ced die … Cho has to get off her soapbox. This pity party of hers was going too far.

"I don't know why you asked me out in the first place if you're just going to make arrangements to meet other girls right after me …"

Blaise rolled her eyes as Potter sputtered for words. Once again, Cho makes herself the poor, grief-stricken victim. Not only did big, bad Harry Potter deny her the RIGHT to mourn for Cedric, he's also stringing her _fragile_ heart into one of his flings. Yeah, everyone knows Potter's a _real_ ladies' man. 

"I'll see you around, Harry," she said soberly turning in such a way that everyone in the room had a good look at her tear-stricken face. Someone give the woman a BAFTA. Blaise would've laughed if she wasn't so annoyed.

When Potter followed Cho out the room, Blaise knew this could be her one and only chance. He could either feel relieved that she delayed him from chasing after Cho, or annoyed. He could tell her to bugger off and not listen to a word she said. Blaise narrowed her eyes. No … she'll make him listen. Even if she had to sit on him to get the message through.

"Where're you going?" 

"Sorry, Roger. This date's not working for me." She tossed some coins on the table. 

She dashed out the door to see Potter splashing through the rain. She cupped her hands and called to him. The rain drowned out her voice. Blaise pulled the cloak over her head. She'll catch him before he enters another pub.

"Are you barking mad, Zabini?" Roger growled twisting her arm behind her back. He dragged her to the side of the building, in a small footway. He held her under the water pouring down the roofs. Unable to breath or see, she spun around and stomped on his foot. He released her with a yelp as Blaise gasped for air.

"You're lucky I'm in a hurry. Or I would pummel your arse." Blaise snarled. 

"Pummel my arse? That seemed the farthest from your mind just a few minutes ago."

"How would you know what I thought? You were too busy trying to stick your slimy tongue down my throat. And don't think I enjoyed it. Unlike your housemate earlier, I won't make a scene. I'll just crush you later."

"Oh, I see. Cho's not your style. And what is? Snogging blokes for the heck of it?"

Blaise pulled up her sleeves. "Keep denying how things really went down, Davies. You're still nothing but a mediocre snog-monger."

"You little slut," Roger hissed. He grabbed Blaise and pushed her against a wall, pinning her arms at her sides. She tried to kick him, but he used his knees to press her legs together. His once handsome face twisted into a trollish scowl. "You think I'll just let you walk away? Let you go to your little Slytherin mates and trash me behind my back? Call me what you want, Zabini, but I NEVER had date where I didn't score more than a snog. And I'm not about to let some slut like you ruin my record."

"Get off me," she growled. "You make me sick! Now I know why Cedric stopped talking to you."

"Oh, fuck you and your precious Cedric. He's dead, Zabini. He's not here to rescue you like he did at the Quidditch Cup. I knew you were nothing but a tease when I first met you. You're putting out, whether you want to or not. And even if you hex me unconscious, I'll still tell the whole school what a whore you are."

"Tell the lie then. Because I will die first before you get your pecker in me." Her stony glare made him step back. 

"Like I'd stoop that low, Zabini," he scoffed darting his eyes down the alley. "Look at you. Bitter little girl. You're not worth a shag." Coughing nervously, he released her only to slam her against the wall again. Blaise clenched her fists. "You'll wish I just shagged you when I get done telling the whole school--"

"What's going on here?" Another voice broke through the pounding rain.

Roger jogged away with a lazy smile. "Nothing, Malfoy. Just bidding adieu to my _date_." He left the alley as Blaise sunk to the cement. Her clothes soaked to the skin. Too late to warn Potter now. After Roger's finished smearing her across campus, no one will believe anything she says. She closed her eyes. Why can't she just have normality in her life for once?

"Do you want the mates to stuff Davies in a toilet or something?" Draco grinned. He pulled Blaise to her feet. She wiped her nose with a wet sleeve.

"I could've handled it. Don't look so smug. You did me no favors." The relief in her voice betrayed her.

Draco handed Blaise an immaculately white handkerchief. "He had you against the bloody wall, Zabini."

"That's when my bite is fiercest."

"Oh, I don't doubt you'd be fierce … Take the damn handkerchief, Zabini. It's not a binding contract for Merlin's sake."

Blaise dabbed the cloth on her face as Draco conjured a tarp over them. She almost said thank you, but she remembered this was Draco Malfoy standing in the rain with her. Not a properly sweet, humble boy like Neville.

"What are you doing here anyway? Where's your posse?"

He shrugged. "I needed space. The other two cramp my style, literally."

Blaise imagined Malfoy squished by Crabbe and Goyle. He always did look like his arms were locked at his sides. She snorted.

"Aha, she apparently laughs."

"It was a sarcastic guffaw." She blushed. 

"I'll take it."

He didn't seem in any hurry to leave her there. Blaise felt a tremor creep in her spine. Her lips felt numb. Her clothes were drenched, but she simply stood there waiting for Malfoy's next move. When none came, she wondered aloud. 

"What ARE you doing here? Be off with you. I'm f-fine." She shuddered.  

He shook his head. "Please, stop the act, woman. It's painful to watch. Although seeing your scammels poke through is amusing."

With a tap of his wand, her clothes dried, as did her hair and the rest of her body. She grimaced as she patted down her frizzed mane. 

"I could've done that myself, Malfoy." He held up her wand. It must've dropped when Roger dragged her into the alley. "Or not." Draco snickered.

"You're impossible."

"Look who's talking!" She mumbled taking back her wand. "You _are_ aware that Snape doesn't approve of this Inquisitorial Squad you've involved yourself in?"

"Not this again. Look. Umbridge is bent on ousting Dumbledore from the school. There's no way around it. I'm just covering my arse. And you know, maybe this school does need to mix things up. Nothing's changed. No big upsets. I think it's disgusting how Dumbledore blithers on about the Dark Lord."

Humility quickly gave into exasperation. "Oh, you think he's _blithering_ now?!"

"The man's blaming Diggory's death on a ghost."

"WHAT?!"

He raised a hand to Blaise's wand. "Hear me out first, witch. The only way the Ministry will listen is if they see the Dark Lord themselves. If all the evidence Dumbledore has is Potter's word and the words of others, then it's easy to dismiss. They must see the man in the flesh. Words are too easy to explain away."

She narrowed her eyes. "You know something, don't you?"

"I probably know as much as you do," he drawled. "And I tell you … Potter's no help. He's only proving he IS an idiot."

"He's only ignorant." She sighed. "Stupid and oblivious are two different things." 

Draco stood directly in front of her. "Why do you defend him?" He asked in a quietly controlled voice.

"Why call it defending? It's the truth."

Draco sighed loudly. "Everyone thinks he's the hero of our generation. So he survived the Dark Lord, he was fortunate. Does that make the rest of us incapable of greatness? I can name hundreds of people more intelligent, more interesting than him. But everyone just focuses on Potter. The true geniuses are nameless. If Scarhead is so great, then why did he let Diggory – Never mind." He turned away, avoiding Blaise's eyes.

"I guess this's where you step off your soapbox, eh?"

He kicked a rock into a puddle. "Don't you just want to get back at him?"

"For what? Just because he came out alive?"

"Yeah! Err, well … I guess No. But what I want to know is … where's the big apology? He owes us an explanation. But he just stomps around the castle wearing this _I Suffered_ badge on his sleeve. If it's such a bloody burden then why doesn't he talk to people about it?!" 

Blaise stiffened. "Yes, that does frustrate me. But … it's an awful, traumatic thing to talk about. I … I wouldn't be comfortable talking about it. It's like … some part of me has to die before I can even begin to discuss. That struggle alone is rough. And then to mix it up with an audience who may or may not believe you. Not everyone sees the truth the same way." Draco bit his lip.

"Bullocks," he finally said. "Anyone can handle honesty. It's the truth after a lie that's hard to swallow." He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Yeah, now I'm off my soapbox."

They stood under the tarp, listening to the rain. Their breath came out in vapors. For once, she didn't mind his company. This was probably the most honest she's been with someone aside from Cedric. But Blaise did want to ask Draco Malfoy something. Something that bugged her since the night she closed her brother's eyes. 

"You know, Malfoy … there's no secret between us about your father and his _connections_, right?" He nodded carefully. She wondered how quickly he would snap. "So if you heard him talking about … the Tournament …" She trailed off awkwardly.

"I would've told you … Don't look so surprised. Diggory was a good man."

She could only nod. If she spoke, she might've blubbered on his shoulder. Like hell, she'll fall to Cho's level. His ears grew slightly pink as he checked his watch.

"The mates might be looking for me. I'm heading back to the castle. Have a butterbeer for me, won't you?" He winked as he left the tarp. The rain had stopped.

"Hey, Malfoy!" She called and joined him at the corner of High Street. "Thanks for helping me back there." 

He smiled smugly. "Aha, so now you're in my debt? Are you comfortable with that? Or do we have to bring out another mistletoe? Davies can watch."

Blaise howled with laughter, in spite of herself. "Leave now. While I'm in a good mood."

Draco smirked. "By the way, you're welcome, Zabini. You're a pain in the arse, but I still find you bearable."

She watched him walk away. The little monster in her had the urge to kiss him again, as she had done in Durmstang two years ago. Only because she knew he'd remind her of this moment for as long as it entertained him. 

Now why would she prefer kissing the bugger instead of simply owing him a favour? _Like hell, I'm attracted to the brat_. 

She glanced at the pubs and shops lining High Street. Through the windows, she saw friends gathered at tables over pints of drinks, girls trying on dress robes, boys pointing at gadgets, couples emerging from the tea parlour. And then there was her. Blaise turned back to the lanky silhouette striding toward the carriages.

"Hey, Malfoy, wait up!"

He held open the door and they climbed into a carriage. On the way back, they talked about Professor Trelawney, complained about Defense, and joked about Mill's infatuation with Crabbe. For once, Blaise forgot the burdens pushing down on her head. They were back to the usual routine: annoying the piss out of each other. 

The Maverick

Once the bell rang, Blaise quickly flattened her exam on her desk and skipped to the back of the room where the rest of the students milled to the exit. She saw a familiar redhead in the crowd and grabbed the owner's sleeve.

Ron Weasley raised a brow as he smiled hesitantly at her. "Uh, lost your balance there, Blaise?"

"Where's Hermione?" She asked quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself. "I need to tell her something." Ron frowned.

"She might be already checking up on Harry. I don't know. All I know is that they took him away. You heard it yourself."

The crowd shifted and Blaise lost sight of Ron. No matter. She knew Hermione would have the most credibility. If she could tell Hermione the message, surely the girl could help Potter. 

When she heard Potter screaming across the room, saw him twitching on the ground, clutching his forehead, all of Oma's warnings cramped inside her stomach. She suddenly saw the _connection_ Oma implied. The torture. And without Padre, Hagrid, and Professor McGonagall in Hogwarts, there was no one there to give him some clarity.

"Hermione!" Blaise called. A very pale face turned to hers. "Hermione, I have to tell you something."

"Can it wait, Blaise? I just heard what happened to Harry …"

"I know. And it's about him." The brunette focused on her with wide eyes. Blaise spoke quickly. "I saw what happened during the exam. You have to make sure that whatever triggered that pain in his mind … just make him understand it's all in his mind."

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think I understand." The crowd pushed against them. Blaise saw Malfoy approaching. 

"Hermione, whatever Harry's seeing isn't real." The Gryffindor's eyes widened. "Please, tell him to clear his mind. His frustration only feeds the images faster. You and I both know that there's _someone_ out there that can pull your friend's heartstrings."

"Blaise," she switched her weight on her heels. "What you're saying sounds a bit far-fetched. Harry _has_ been acting peculiar but it's just stress." Her stomach sunk to the floor. Hermione gave her a small smile. "But if there's any truth to what you're saying--"

"There is, Hermione. You have to believe me. Don't let Potter out of your sight. And whatever happens, don't let him … go anywhere." She bit her lip suddenly feeling very stupid. She couldn't think straight, not with everyone brushing past them. 

"Uh, okay. If you say so." The crowd began to pull them apart. Blaise made one last effort. She gently pulled on Hermione's robe. 

"Be the voice of reason!" She whispered hotly. "If it sounds _unlikely_, it probably is. You know Harry will do anything to prevent the past from repeating itself." She could see her reflection in Hermione's dark eyes. "Even _I_ see that in him, Hermione. His compassion for people is a virtue and a weakness."

She couldn't tell if Hermione heeded her words. The rest of the 5th years finally swarmed around them and Blaise lost herself again in the crowd. She elbowed her way into the courtyard. She sat down on the grass and pulled out the journal as Morag and Susan sat beside her.

"How did you do?"

"Alright, I guess," Susan mumbled. Blaise scrawled _Dear Oma_ onto the page. "How 'bout you, Blaise?"

"I managed," she waited for Oma's script to appear on the page. Not a single blot of ink bled through. Blaise scribbled down _Dear Oma_ again. 

"I'm glad exams are over," Morag sighed resting on her side. Just then all three looked up as the crowd they just escaped began to gather onto their courtyard. Morag called over to her dorm mate. "Hey, Lisa! What's going on?"

Lisa Turpin shrugged. "Someone let off some Garroting Gas in the corridor. The line to get past it is too long so the rest of us are waiting out here."

Blaise shoved her journal in her cloak pocket. "Garroting Gas? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Well, I guess. Some 4th years told us. They blocked everyone from passing."

"What are you thinking?" Susan whispered to Blaise.

"Garroting Gas is no laughing matter." Blaise muttered under her breath. "If it was in the corridor, everyone would be choking to death. Even the so-called watch outs."

"Wanna check it out?" Morag grinned. Blaise cringed.

"Not really."

"Come on, Blaise. Snape didn't reassign Prefect to you for nothing."

"If he had any true conviction behind it, he would've told that to the other two. It's probably nothing anyway." She considered ducking by Hagrid's hut so she could talk to Oma in private. Suddenly, a small figure came stumbling out a pathway and bumped straight into Susan's hip. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" A young boy squeaked. Blaise noticed the camera dangling from his neck and recognised one of the Creevey brothers.

"What's your hurry?"

"I can't find a Professor anywhere!" He sniffed. "Malfoy just passed me and he bragged he had Harry Potter's wand and Potter was going to be expelled. And Weasley and Granger too. And McGonagall's left and--"

"Whoa, wait, Creevey, slow down," Morag sighed. "Who's expelling them?"

"Umbridge," Blaise sighed. "But why does Malfoy have Potter's wand?"

Creevey turned to Blaise. She braced herself. "Please, can you help us? I can't find any of the other Prefects anywhere. And you're probably the most neutral among them anyway. Please, Zabini? Please?"

Blaise bit her lip. "I don't know how I can stop Umbridge from expelling people." 

Potter, though, loomed over her head, like a personal storm cloud. His face has been drifting in and out of her thoughts so often now that she was close to pulling her hair out. Of all the favors Oma could ask of her, why must she ask this one?! 

_"There is a prophecy in the Ministry of Magic that Voldemort thinks is essential to his survival,"_ Oma told her back in the castle. _"It was very well-protected in there, until Fudge modified the orbs protecting the prophecies. Now anyone can activate these prophecies after safe retrieval … And as I told Albus, Voldemort will not lay a foot in the Ministry, but he will try to take this."_

_"Sirius and I both agree that Harry Potter's ignorance makes him extremely vulnerable. But as long as the likes of Molly Weasley continue handling him with those smothering oven mitts, the boy will never be prepared. I'd rather not involve you, Blaise. But aside from Potter's friends, who I doubt have the same degree of intelligence and maturity you have, I see that _you_ must tell Potter." _

_"Tell him to avoid the Ministry of Magic, no matter what he hears or sees. Tell him about the prophecy. Tell him about Voldemort's attempt to take it. Tell him that Voldemort's resurrection will have strengthened the _connection_. The boy will understand."_

"Yeah, then Potter will think, who is this daft apeth? She's barking as fuck," Blaise mumbled under her breath. Oma had good intentions, but Draco Malfoy stood a better chance impressing Potter with this prophecy shit. 

Her eyes darted from her friends' faces to Creevey's watery eyes. She did her part, didn't she? She told Hermione. No … that was just lip service. Potter could face expulsion. Or perhaps something much worse. But why should she care? Maybe if she told Cho to relate the message, he'd pay attention. Blaise gave her head a violent jerk. 

"I hate this place."

Morag grinned. "That means she'll help." Creevey nodded and sped back to the castle. Blaise followed him with Morag and Susan close behind.

They almost reached the corridor where Ginny and Luna had stood when a loud group of students blocked their way. Blaise scowled when she caught not only the sneering faces of Cho and Marietta but also of Roger who pushed to the front of the group. 

"Look who's here," he snickered. "The wannabe do-gooder and her band of misfits." Several girls scowled at Morag who narrowed her eyes. "I don't blame Bones for having poor judgment but you MacDougal … you're a disgrace to our house."

"Tell it to someone who cares, Davies," Blaise snapped. "You apparently have nothing to say to us, so let us pass."

Both groups tensed when Blaise stepped forward. A mild wind stirred around them, making her cloak billow softly around her. Something about the wind and the gleam in her eyes made the 6th years take a step back. 

"You're not even a real Prefect," Roger scoffed with widened eyes. But still, he pushed past them without another word. The rest of the group followed. Marietta glared at Blaise who stared back angrily. It was because of Edgecombe that Padre had been ousted from the school. Blaise had her at the top of her list. 

Marietta jutted her elbow out just as she passed Blaise. Before she could react, her journal slipped out of her cloak, and Roger dove for the book. Blaise tried to grab it back but both groups tussled and Roger managed to scramble to the end of the hall. 

Over a dozen wands appeared, more than half aimed at Blaise. 

"Hand that back, Davies," she said quietly. Some people pressed themselves against the wall, white as rice.

"Why, love?" He chuckled, flipping the pages over. "Seems you have nothing written down here anyway."

"That's probably because she can't write." Someone snickered from the crowd. Blaise narrowed her eyes. Said by-stander squeaked and ducked behind a gargoyle. 

Susan steadied Blaise's wand. "Go and help Potter," she whispered. "Morag and I will handle these fools."

She bit her lip. "Susan, they're doing this to pester me. You don't have to--"

"I'm your friend, Blaise," she smiled. "Besides, they think we're all Mavericks anyway."

"Actually, he said Misfits, but I like your term better," Morag drawled.

"Are you both sure about this? They're many."

"We can take 'em," Susan said. "Potter taught me well."

"And you taught me well, Blaise," Morag winked.

Blaise hesitated, casting looks from her friends, to Davies' group, to Creevey trembling against the wall. It was only her journal. Yes, but she HAD to tell Oma what happened. And it puzzled her that her grandmother wasn't responding promptly.

"Thinking about running, Zabini?" Marietta jeered. Blaise closed her eyes. And she made her decision.

"Kick their arses. I'll be back," she said to her friends. She nodded to Creevey who sped away. 

She ran down the opposite end of the corridor amidst shouts from Davies and the other 6th years. She wondered if placing complete faith in Susan and Morag was the right choice. 

"This way!" The boy called. 

She chased after Creevey who stumbled his way through the stream of students until he stopped at a familiar door. Blaise's lip curled sharply at the memory of pink duvets and tea dollies that Umbridge fancied. Talk about over-compensation. 

"There!" Creevey whispered eying the door as if it'd devour him. She strode straight for it as Creevey made some garbled excuse and ran back down the hall. 

"You're welcome," Blaise muttered. 

Just then, the door flew open and two massive figures charged out followed by a strangled scream.

"Get the bloody feckers! Don't let them get away! Umbridge will have our hides. Or worse, I'LL HAVE YOUR BLOODY HIDES!"

Blaise squeezed against the wall as Crabbe and Goyle scarpered down the corridor and into the courtyards that led into the Forbidden Forest. Sighing deeply, she strolled inside the office. With a simple wave of her wand, she cancelled out the hexes on Pansy and Mill. Then she veered on Malfoy. 

"Well? Get these bogeys off of me!" He snapped. 

"Bogeys? I don't see any bogeys. Unless you're referring to the snarl on your lip. Want me to hex that off too?"

Pansy brushed Blaise aside and tried to unto the hex. Instead, she ran out of the office chased by the booger bats.

"Where are they?" Blaise demanded over Pansy's distant wailing. "Where's Umbridge?"

Malfoy pointed at his bogey-stained face and shook his head. Millicent cleared her throat. 

"Umbridge took Potter and Granger to the Forbidden Forest. And I'm sure the other idiots followed." Blaise grabbed his collar.

"How could you let her get away with that? You said yourself Umbridge was a sketchy character. What makes you think she won't drag your arse into a dark place so she can have her way with you next?!"

Draco blushed as he straightened his hair. "You know Umbridge is just as intimidated by my father as she is with your family and Dumbledore. I don't like her, I have no respect for her, but if you haven't noticed, she's got this school by the balls."

"Then why do you _encourage_ her?!"

"Because it's fun."

Blaise clenched her fists as she stared Draco down. 

"You don't understand, do you?" She hissed. "You still think this is all a game. People _died_ from a game, Malfoy. Lives were ruined. And you're just wandering around looking for a good laugh."

He shrugged. "Well, yeah. More or less." Grimacing she turned away. "I'm only playing the part, Zabini."

"You just don't get it." 

"What do you want me to say, Zabini?!" 

"Nothing! I don't expect much from you to begin with! Carry on as you always, ALWAYS do." She stomped out of the office. 

"What is that supposed to mean?!" He snapped jogging beside her. "You think _Potter_ will do us any good? You think he'll get your family out of their sorry state?" Blaise stiffened and glared at him. Draco folded his arms. "The git's as selfish as I am. People just empathize with him because he's a sorry orphan without a clue." 

_How long will you keep your mind closed over a stupid childhood spat?_ She circled him slowly, like a lioness eying her prey. 

"You know why you hate Potter so much? It's not because he's got all the attention or he's a hero for doing little. You hate him because he rejected your friendship. For a son of a Death-Eater to even consider such a thing, it's blasphemous. But … I'm not surprised."

"He was your attempt at a different path from your father's. But when you tried to grab for that dream, to break away, he said no to you. And now you're cursed to follow your daddy's footsteps. And as much as you think you enjoy _playing the part_, you don't. You hate it. And you hate yourself for it."

Her words hung heavily in the air. Millicent fidgeted in the stony silence.

"Umm, I reckon that's Pansy's still screaming out by the courtyards. Yeah, I'll look into that." She ducked away as Blaise glared down her nose.

"Can't say anything now, can you?"

His face flushed bright pink. "You're full of shit, Zabini."

"Aren't we all, Malfoy?"

"I'm not a minion to my father or to anyone."

"You have yet to prove that, kid." 

Speechless, Draco stormed off. She watched him with a heavy sigh. She should feel satisfied that she put him in his place. But she had hoped he'd try just a little bit harder to prove her wrong. 

Then with a vigorous shake of her head, Blaise spun around and ran to the Forbidden Forest. 

She noticed Pansy and Millicent standing by a cluster of crooked trees. These bent over a slightly worn path that circled within the forest's perimeter. Blaise remembered Draco talking about this path. He had to follow it in their first year for detention. She suddenly frowned. 

"Where's Crabbe and Goyle?" She asked as she neared the two girls. Pansy looked up and, against Millicent's efforts, charged towards Blaise. 

"What are you doing here?!" She snarled, waving her wand close to Blaise's head. "You've meddled enough already, Blaise!"

"Meddled!" Blaise barked. "I just got here! You got yourselves into this mess! You're better than this, Pansy. You too, Mill. What are you two doing here following some old bag's cause?"

Pansy's lip trembled. "Who's side are you on, dammit?!"

"None. I actually pave my own path. You should try it sometime."

Pansy grabbed her arm as she pushed past her.

"Blaise, don't go after them. Let Umbridge handle it."

"Pansy, that sadistic bulldog could easily torture any student here. Even you're not immune. No matter how many times you kiss her arse."

"Fine! Go on and help those gits!" Pansy blurted. "You think they'll accept you after you help them, is that it? Do you seriously think that you can single-handedly change the opinion of this school about our house and us? Why do you try, Blaise? Why do you care?"

Blaise bit her lip. "I'm only doing what my grandmother requested of me. And … it's the right thing to do. Don't roll your eyes at me, Pansy. I only wish someone did this for Cedric." She stopped suddenly. The tightness in her chest began to swell. She turned her back to the two girls. "I'm going in there. And if you don't want to help, then leave. I'll go alone. It's nothing new to me."

As Blaise walked away, Pansy called after her. "If the house hears about this, Blaise, there's nothing I can do to stop them from turning against you! You'll lose the little respect you managed to gain. You'll be back at zero, Blaise! Do you hear me?!"

The vines dangling from the tree pulled away as Blaise approached the forest's entrance. The moss gathered behind her, closing her within the foliage. With Pansy's warning echoing sharply in her mind, Blaise stalked down the path. There was no turning back now. 


End file.
